Knowing Yourself is True Wisdom

When one journey ends, another one always begins

I know damn well that I need to be working on a paper that’s due tomorrow at 5 pm. But I’ve had a thought that’s been in the back of my mind for awhile now. The last few months or so have definitely proven to be a challenge for myself. Spiritually, mentally and physically. 

I’m hard headed. As you all know. I’d like to think that I do a pretty good job at hiding my emotions and feelings, and my state of being at that given time. But it never really does me any good at all, because I have loving friends and family who seem to know me. And no matter how hard I may try to hide it, my eyes show everything. Literally.

At the beginning of this semester, I have hoped and I have prayed to God that He grant me the strength to help me find myself again. Because I felt as though as I was beginning to lose myself. I kept looking for signs that would be extremely obvious. But in retrospect, I can’t believe how blind I was. They were pretty obvious alright enough. How oblivious can I possibly get? 

The past few months or so, have changed my life, dramatically. I have made decisions that were extremely hard for me to do. Some, that I am not so proud of. The walk and the journey that I have been on, is unbearable for most. But it has taught me to find something that I have never had before. And that something is faith. 

That being said, I recently converted to Christianity, and as all of you have seen in past posts, it was the end to a journey of heartbreak, and the beginning of something new.

Ever since I gave my life to Christ, I’ve noticed a change in myself. For one, I haven’t been this happy in quite a long time. Truth be told. But it’s a different kind of happiness, it’s a joy. A joy that no one can take away from me. 

But on a different note, it’s not at all easy. Things that aren’t of good being or purity have highlighted themselves to me, making themselves be known. Temptation is a bitch. 

Completely different from that, my journey really and truly has just begun. I was never expecting for it to be no damn cakewalk, but I wasn’t going to beat myself up for every wrong thing that I’ve ever done in my life either.

The first major event that happened to my life was as of last Thursday evening. I had the strangest dream. I had a dermal piercing on my lower right abdomen, and a set of car keys attached to it. I felt a pain on my right side. And in my dream I remember telling people I was limited to doing certain things, because the pain was so immense. After finally having the surgery in my dream, I found that the pain only got worse. I woke up the following morning, with my lower right abdomen in the worse pain ever. I dismissed it, thinking I had pulled a muscle the night before rehearsing a few pieces for my jazz final the following morning. 

But after having a conversation about it with a few of my friends, I was prompted to make a doctor’s appointment the following day, in the event it was appendicitis.

“Appendicitis?” I remember my doctor giving me some sort of puzzled look after telling him my dream and my theory. “Honey, if you had appendicitis, you would be doubled over in pain right now.” With a flip of his hand, he ordered a few tests on me the following Saturday morning. 

I just got my test results back, and while I praise God that I don’t have what I was fearing the most, I learned something I wish I would’ve never heard. According to test results, I have a cyst the size of a grapefruit on my right ovary. Typically speaking, if cysts are causing no harm or pain in one’s body, they aren’t removed. However, since it’s the latter in my case, I have to. Especially due to this being the very same cyst on my ovary that I had been feeling pain from before about a year ago. Of course then, it was the size of a dime. 

I’ve practically lived in hospitals since I was little. And I think part of the reason as to why I’m taking this so hard, is because after watching my father go in and out of the hospital for the past few months, now here I go. Not only that, but I haven’t been in one for so long, the first thing I thought of when I heard the news was, “what the fuck is wrong with me?” Not only is there the fact that the cyst must be removed. But, on the day of surgery, once I’m sliced open, and doctors are given the chance to evaluate the nature of my condition, will they be able to determine whether or not my right ovary should be removed. 

While I’m trying to remain positive. I’m really not sure how I should feel about this. The fact that I’m sitting here in my best friend’s apartment, looking her dead in the eye; laughing and smiling with her over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs,  pretending to write a paper while I vent about my own ordeals on here is tearing me apart. Something I don’t want people to know about. 

All I know right now, is that all I can do, is just pray.