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Here we are… In 2019. It’s hard for me to break down what I’ve been through these last couple of years. Not because I don’t remember what’s happened or I’m afraid to talk about it – but I don’t think the English dictionary has words that can explain it. For you to understand. Generalized Anxiety Disorder, losing my sister and best friend, heart failure, CMV, medications, trichotillomania, and depression. Despite all the negatives, I love myself now more than you’ll ever know.
One of my biggest fears has successfully become my reality. I knew about the possibilities and this was always an acronym that was talked about amongst the doctor visits and kitchen counter top – CMV. How to prevent it, the risks, and all other things involving this disgusting inconvenience were things I knew. But here’s the thing… I never planned for this. CMV never made it to my nightly routine or next Saturday’s plans. How do you even plan for something so uncomfortable? It’s like knowing your destination but referencing a roadmap that doesn’t make sense. CMV was indeed distant cousins to transplant rejection and best friends with misery.