About nine years ago, a woman was on a ledge. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself (and apparently God) "This is it."
She found herself on the ground. In shock. She started yelling "I just want to die." She tried to get up but the paramedics told her not to move.
An official from the university that she was attending called her mother to tell them about the situation.
"Not my daughter. That just can't be." she said.
But her mother and brother made a trip to the university.
Everyone involved did not know if she would ever walk or run again.
She walked two days later with the help of a body brace of which she would wear for the next 3 months.
Years later, she had a concussion and went to the hospital. One of the medications that they gave her in the hospital caused her to become dystonic. She could barely walk. She stuttered, barely able to speak. Her eyes were uncontrollable. It became so severe that they were talking about her being in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
Again, she was not sure if she would ever walk or run again.
A few years later, she was in an outpatient mental health program. She was only in that program for a couple months, until she was hositalized again.
You may have figured that this person I speak of is me.
Today, I ran my first 5K in over 10 years. Today I ran by that outpatient program and reflected on how far I have come. It also reminded me that this life is a journey, not a destination.
I am beyond thankful to God that I can still run and walk.
Today was miraculous and monumental for me,
