"It's one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody" - Maya Angelou

Me today (Well two weeks ago!) 

Maya Angelou's words never cease to inspire me. They distil my larger experiences, the one's I have difficulty being eloquent about. They help me to put meaning onto my experiences. With her passing yesterday many are re-visiting or discovering for the first time Maya Angelou's power and powerful work.

I've chosen the above quote to write about today. I have ulcerative colitis. I had a pretty traumatic year from 2009-10. I was so sick I was unable to leave the house most days. When I could, it was like a military operation;

1. Driver goes out and heats the car up
2. Calls me when its running for 10 minutes and properly warm.
3. I make the dash from the apartment to the car. 
4. Sit in the car for another 5 minutes in order to see if the dash from the front door was too stressful
5. Assess viability of situation: Had the cold gotten to me this time? Would I need to go back? 
6. Repeat above steps if necessary

Finally I got some decent care through CUH. I was due for my first appointment on the Monday but on Saturday the pain got so bad I could no longer cope. I came back into the room where my boyfriend was and he was crying. He said; "You can't go on like this. I can't watch you like this any more It's killing me". Finally I listened. I had been waiting patiently for my appointment and not wishing to jump queues. I saw how bad I was in his reflection. It was hurting him just to watch me suffer. I needed to take myself more seriously. 

I went to A&E and was admitted 20 minutes after triage. I was written up for morphine. Later that evening I was brought up to a ward. I was put on high doses of steroids and a week later I was discharged. I was better, so much better. I don't like being on steroids but at least I had some let up from the pain.

3 months later I had tapered down the steroids and had come off them completely. That week was horrendous. It was like the floor beneath me had been removed and I just continued to plummet. I was crying a lot and I just kept telling myself "It will get better" or the mantra of that year "This too shall pass". 

I had suffered from depression and anxiety in the past so I knew what that felt like. But this was worse. I describe it like this. Imagine there is a basement in your house. No one is allowed down there. There is a trap door that leads to it but over that you have a plush Persian rug. Over that again is a really heavy wardrobe. There is even a lock on the trapdoor.  Well every so often you go down there. No one knows you are there because no one can see you. You are hidden. And anyway people don't approve of basements so you do your best to hide it and your journeys to basement land. 

The basement is familiar. You know you can get out because you have gotten out before. Now imagine you visit the basement. But this time it has changed. Instead of the familiar surroundings there is no floor. You think there is a floor but then you step on it and it disappears. And you begin to fall. But there is no thud. There is no bottom just an endless terrifying descent into blackness. 

And that was the week I got pregnant. Unexpectedly and we were not trying. I didn't know I was pregnant of course. But that's when it would have happened. The week I came off the steroids. Obviously not the best time but like I said, we weren't trying. 

So there I was, suicidal and pregnant. Unless you have experienced that I don't know if you can really fathom what that feels like. There I was with a tiny baby developing inside of me and all I wanted to do was end my life. I was so ashamed, so much so that I couldn't even tell my doctor what I was feeling. I just pretended to be happy when she said congratulations. It wasn't like I didn't want the baby. I did, I just didn't want to be alive any more. I thought of all those people who struggled to get pregnant and here was I wanting to end it all. I hated myself for it and I felt it was unforgivable. 

I lost the baby 10 weeks later. And then my boyfriend broke up with me. I was utterly depressed and the only thing that was keeping me alive, the baby, was gone. I went into see my GP after I lost the baby but she was away on holidays. Instead I was offered another doctor in the clinic. The fortuitous moments of life! I walked into that room and into the arms of my saviour. I think how lucky I was that day to meet this amazing women who is still my GP. I felt able to open up to her. She listened with compassion and gave me my options. I'd like to say everything was great from there on in but it wasn't. Things got worse before they got better but I had a doctor who cared.

That was a long setting of a scene into which forgiveness arrives. I was angry. Hey I was everything back then - I still am. I was grieving; the loss of the baby, the loss of the relationship. I had been physically sick for so long and now when I was physically better I became mentally unwell. I've been fed so much bullshit over the years about mental illness that I felt in some way I should just "snap out of it". Somehow the mental anguish I was in was not as valid as the physical illness I have. I kicked the shit out of myself daily with self-disgust. "All you wanted was to be better, to leave the house and have freedom. Now you have it, you are wasting it by moping around. Snap out of it."

Add into this the break-up. A short time after my boyfriend broke up with me he realised he had made a mistake. (No shit Sherlock!) I had promised myself that no matter what, I would never take him back. I was so angry with him. 

Time passed. I had one friend in  particular who really helped me keep my head above water. He would offer activities I could join him on. "Fancy helping me make cider" "Wanna go walk the dog in the woods?" "Want to come to a barbecue at my parents house?" "No pressure if you don't." Or when I was down on myself and tell him I had not got out of bed today, he would remind me how far I had come from the days when that used to be everyday.

I moved on. I started seeing other people. A year later I started going out with someone else. It was nice but something wasn't right. A year later we broke up at my instigation. That summer I had a chat with friend. She told me about an experience from when she was younger. I told her about mine. She asked me about how my ex was doing? How had he coped in the aftermath? My reply was probably something like "Why should I care about him? He left me when I needed him most!" And she did that wonderful thing of saying nothing, just listening and nodding. And in her non-judgement silence I saw myself. I saw my anger. I saw my bitterness. I saw how I had never forgiven him. I told myself I had moved on but I hadn't. How could I move on with all that anger and bitterness alive and burning in my chest. 

I saw how hard it must have been for him to watch someone go through months of pain and illness. To see their descent into suicidal depression. To lose the baby that he so dearly had wished for. To run away because it was all too much. And then to have to live with that decision, the anger from the person he loved, the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to rectify it. 

I let my anger go. I forgave him for doing the best he could by the light he had to see by. It took two years but finally I let it go. The past was the past and there was no going back. I see him now for what he was; hurt, confused, grieving. I finally found my compassion for him. Yes I wish it didn't take so long. But as a teacher of mine likes to say "It is what it is". I wouldn't be here today. I wouldn't have had these amazing experiences of the last few years without it. Somewhere in a parallel universe there is a version of me still in love with that man, holding our child who would be starting school soon. But I don't live in that universe, I live in mine. It is what it is. 

So to go back to Maya's words

It's one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody.

And most importantly forgive yourself. When you "forgive everybody" include yourself.  I forgive myself for being angry and for carrying that anger for so long. I forgive myself for lacking compassion for others but most importantly, myself. I forgive myself for doing the best I can by the light I have to see by.