068 - the one in which she dropped off the face of the earth

I'm (still) here

This year has been downright biblical.

There’s been suffering.
There’s been salvation.

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On December 26, 2022, I was struck down by the phenomenon known as Long Covid. Nine months of being bedridden, most of the time unable to do much more than whisper, half of the time being even unable to feed myself. The impact on my brain and body can not be underestimated: it was as though I had sustained heart damage, a traumatic brain injury, and acquired severe chronic fatigue. It was a complete and utter takedown.

To make an extremely long story short, I’m better now. I’m better! The last few niggling symptoms continue to fade as the days pass. I’ve spent the last two months rehabbing my strength and mobility and my relationships with my children. I’ve spent the last two months being happy.

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One of the many many mindfucks of getting better so suddenly and quickly is that outwardly it seems as though I’ve just stepped back into normal life. As though these nine months didn’t happen. In most of my interactions with people outside my family, it is essentially as though I was never gone.

And yet, I am not the same person I was before.

In these nine months, I went to hell twice and clawed my way back to life twice. I was imprisoned in an internal monastery where it seemed as though karmic forces were demanding that I learn the lessons I needed to learn before being released to the next life. I fought demons and monsters. I absorbed truest love.

But because of the extreme fatigue, all of this happened in crushing isolation because I was unable to talk, unable to verbally process, unable to share my experiences.

I’ve been thinking about Tom Hanks in Cast Away as an outward manifestation of the inward journey. The incredible capacity of the human spirit and the physical body. The mental strength that gets honed in order to survive. And also, that stepping back into a world that has gone on without you.

Since I’ve gotten better, I’ve chosen to focus on healing and happiness, so my experiences are still hidden away inside of me. I haven’t pushed away the memories—I’ve continued to process and focus on keeping this year and its traumas integrated within myself. But my few attempts at verbalization have been really awkward.

Where do I even start when there is so much context that needs to be built in order for true telling and true understanding.

Very few people have asked about my experiences. Honestly, I think I’ve been giving off a pretty strong vibe that I was not ready to talk about it, and I’ve been pretty picky about choosing extremely safe spaces. I’ve been honoring the process of healing and waiting until I have felt ready enough. I feel as though the purely happy phase of initial recovery has passed and I’m ready to do some reckoning, ready to make the effort to tolerate the awkward phase, ready for words.

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I’ve missed you all terribly. One of my many great griefs from this year are the dozens of essays I’ve written in my mind that will never see the light of day. There are so many things I’ve wanted to talk over with you. And now I can, and I’m so grateful.

xo, Leilani