I killed a giant today!
Not a metaphorical giant, but one that has threatened to kill me for over 6 years. Do you know what it’s like to live in fear? Do you know what it’s like to try to outrun, outlive, outmaneuver something chasing you? It’s tough, if you don’t know, and the mental unrest that accompanies your fight is even more unsettling.
I became a doctor today. YAY! While I am not a medical doctor, I did obtain a Ph.D. And, the road has been anything but pretty.
While on the outside, many saw me smiling today, what few understood was that I won wounded. There were numerous times within my program that caused me to absorb spiritual, mental, and emotional hits. These experiences, more times than not, threatened to harden me. They left small ticks on the canvas of my body that are only traceable through my moodiness. But, I made it, right? Of course, that’s all that should matter but it’s not.
When we get these degrees, we leave changed. And, while change can be seen as a good thing, we cannot overlook the negative impacts of certain experiences. More times than not, if you’re ever able to listen to graduate students talk, you will hear about the horrors of their experiences as they pass stories that are as common as initiation rituals.
But, that is not the point of this piece. Today I killed a giant, but I had to kill it wounded. I don’t know if you’ve ever fought wounded before, but it takes more energy to fight when your body is struggling to recover as opposed to if you were well.
For 10 days, I’ve been struggling to recover. Not from the fight with anxiety that I had a few years ago. Not from the emotional wounds that I acquired when I felt marginalized in a classroom. Not even from the consistent critiquing while in school, but from the wound made by my brother’s death.
In my previous post, I scratched the surface about how I felt about my brother’s death. While I didn’t go into detail at the time, I did express my unrest with the situation. But, for the last 10 days, I’ve been battling wounded.
See, I could not drop the weight of my responsibility because I was grieving. I could not set aside my commitments, deadlines, goals or dreams because the breath had been knocked out of me. I was already fighting to maintain my breathing.
The world kept going. People kept smiling. My phone kept ringing. People still needed me. I still had to defend my dissertation. I still have to graduate.
I know now what it means to fight wounded. I know how it feels to hold the wound with one hand, and fend off attackers with another. I know the feeling of helplessness and weakness. I also know what it is like to feel satisfaction.
I defended my dissertation wounded. Every 15 minutes I found myself checking the clock because I felt myself coming undone. Can you imagine coming undone in the last hour of your career as a student?
I was under a pressure that I’d never felt before. I was dealing (avoiding) grief, finishing a degree, and breaking the glass ceiling off of my family. I was under pressure and people were counting on me. I was counting on me. But, I was hurt deeply.
I killed the giant though. I killed the thing that was standing in the way of my promotion. I shattered the glass ceiling and created a new floor on the next level. I fought the good fight of faith, and I fought hard.
I write this post to let you know that it will never be a perfect time for you to live on purpose. It will never be the right time for you to overcome. But, you have to stay the course. You have to do it even when you don’t want to. You have to push even when you feel like wallowing in self-pity. You have to stand even when you don’t desire to.
…even if it means fighting wounded.