My Story Part 1

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.  : )

 

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