It’s Been a Long Time

It’s been a long time since I have written on my blog. I have been busy with work, school, writing, and motherhood. A few weeks into October, I faced terrible complications of stomach problems. I have never been so sick for years. Almost ten years, it was my first time in a long time. I didn’t realize how much, unlike health, it takes sickness to understand pain and grief. I felt like my world was shaking, and I didn’t know where it had taken me. I was weak, tired, constantly puking, had diarrhea and abdominal pains. I went to doctors; they tested every sickness from Covid to any relatable illness. They found nothing. I got rushed to the hospital at 2:00 am, still nothing.
Although life was at a place yet unimaginable, I had faith and believed that everything would turn outright. Knowing that I was sick for days and unable to do something made me sick to my stomach. I even forgot my friend’s birthdays, forgetting stuff I had to do that week. As far as health is concerned, it was more like, ” what more can a person do but as much as they can for themselves?”
I have been self-employed for two years, not until recently that I started working a job,sometimes more than twenty hours a week. I’d realized that I would rather be my boss than work under anyone. Knowing this for a fact, the stress, the tiredness, and working around the house have seemed seriously tiring and tedious. School homework piled and exams to write, the possibility that someday, somehow, my hard work would unquestionably pay off is taking too much time. But how precisely is too much time?
When life takes us places we don’t want to be, we often ask why instead of figuring out the best way to overcome the circumstances. There have been many instances I felt like no matter how much I eat healthily, work hard, pay my bills on time, life does what it does to elevate, teach or uplift us. As I write this article, my eyes are tired. My nose is runny with a severe cold and migraine. I still have to cook, clean the house, go to the gym, and put in some bodywork to reduce tension.
So my question is? If consistency was a place? I haven’t visited in a while. If persistency was home, I have always had that. If courage was sleep, I dream of it every night.
But what can stop me now? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Until then, I awake the day you ask for an autograph and remember this article. Until then, I would never give up. Even until my last breath, I would still live because death is only physical.