In the last few weeks, I've whimpered here and there thinking about my approaching one year anniversary with the CI. I'm still not understanding the world. When I think like this, without warning a few tears might slide down my cheeks. But when I find myself questioning why my CI isn't helping me more, I shake it off. I have to work, be a mom, and just do what I have to do.
I try to encourage others to embrace their truths, and when I start my own pity party, I try to remind myself I'm okay. It's going to get better, right?
I tell myself it has to. I tell myself I don't have it that bad.
I tell myself I have the most beautiful, wonderful children and a loving and supportive husband. It's not that bad, I tell myself. I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful.
But tonight I'm angry. Why isn't the hearing happening for me?
Perhaps I haven't been that honest all along. Perhaps instead of escaping into my blog, or giving speeches, or any of those achievements that made me proud- so very proud- maybe I should have spent more time this last year practicing hearing, advocating with my audiologist, really trying to wrap my brain around cochlear implant technology and the options available to make life easier.
Perhaps my "success" in other areas briefly distracted me from lack of progress when it came to my hearing.
Perhaps I've been seeking self-acceptance through others than myself, because honestly, every word of encouragement, every "LIKE", every Facebook message-- they can make a difference in getting me through a day without breaking down in sobs. Maybe I depend more on others than myself to get me through.
Tonight I stood in the midst of a business mixer, numerous voices surrounding me. But it's not voices. It's just noise. Sharp, sometimes painful, chaotic noise. I turn my volume up, I turn my range down, I change programs... And NOTHING WORKS.
And so I left the event. I got in my car, and I cried. I cried really hard. Blurry-eyed, I stopped the car and started writing. Because through my ramblings, perhaps there's some clarity.
God, HELP ME TO HEAR. I want to understand. PLEASE.
I finish this post in a convenience store parking lot, wiping away my tears, and continuing on. Another ugly-cry behind me, I tell myself I must continue on.