Sharing my story is important. Sharing my story is not easy. My life before running, before kids, before getting married is unknown to most. I wanted to keep it that way. I moved on. Made it out. Conquered. Whatever you want to call it. I did not want to bring my war with me to the other side, but I have changed. I want my story to inspire others, to give hope to those with none, to show people who I am, and to give those with similar struggles someone to relate to. I am not telling my story in chronological order. I am telling it in pieces or layers. Beautifully complicated…limitless…this is my not so average running blog.
I missed out on growing up, or maybe, I just skipped it. From age 12 to 18, my life was full of hospital stays, treatment centers, alternative schools, loss, and scars. When I met my husband in 2004, I was 18 years old and in very poor shape. We were both trying to turn our life around, but I was barely holding on. The fact that all of my problems didn’t scare him away amazed me. I had been fighting uphill battles for six years, picking up more problems along the way, and when we met, I was losing. I saw no hope. I had no direction I wanted to go. One doctor told me I wouldn’t make it, but I wasn’t a very good listener.
I needed a reason to listen, a reason to point my will power and drive in the opposite direction, a reason to live. Anorexia and addiction were killing me.
Fear of losing my life came when I went to see my cardiologist. Every month beginning in Fall 2004, I went to Presbyterian for an echocardiogram, and I rarely received good news. I had been free of cardiac problems for a year before they started showing up again. By January 2005, I had an orthostatic tilt (my blood pressure dropped when I stood up), my aortic root was enlarged, and I had an aortic and mitral valve insufficiency. In February 2005, my electrocardiogram showed a low voltage and a right axis, and my echocardiogram showed that my aortic root was still enlarged. Additionally, there was a pericardial effusion and leaking in my mitral valve. In my cardiologists evaluation, she wrote that I was at risk of having a heart attack. Exercise was out of the question, and my daily activities had to be kept to a bare minimum. I had been through this before, but this time I felt scared. I hated everything about anorexia and addiction. I couldn’t see the light. Stuck at the bottom of a seemingly endless pit, I had a long climb ahead of me if I wanted to get out.
Thank you for reading My Story Part 1!
I am not ready to answer questions, and I would appreciate if comments were kept to a minimum. : )