Part 36 The Chronicles Of Being Sarah Marie

“You Just Can’t Make This Shit Up;

Who The Fuck Did I Divorce?”

LISTEN!

We know that when a woman speaks truth to power, there will be attempts to put her down… I’m not going to go anywhere.”

— MAXINE WATERS

THE truth shouldn’t hurt, it should make you better!

“Sometimes doing the hard thing, is the best thing!”

-Serena Williams

“Let me tell you something most people don’t want to hear: that a narcissist in your life didn’t just stumble there by accident. It wasn’t random, and it wasn’t meaningless. As much as you may hate it, as much as it may feel unfair, there’s a reason they showed up.

We like to think blessings only come wrapped in comfort, but God doesn’t work like that. Sometimes, a blessing comes dressed as a storm. Sometimes, it comes as a thorn. Sometimes, it comes as the one person who drives you to the edge of yourself—not to destroy you, but to show you who you really are. And yes, it’s painful. Yes, it feels like betrayal on repeat. But PAIN HAS A PURPOSE!

Every scar, every sleepless night, and every manipulation you endured pushes you closer to the lesson you were meant to learn. Because God doesn’t waste suffering; He recycles it into strength.”

- Vanessa Ramos

I know it’s been a while since my last post and I have certainly missed connecting and interacting with all of my FB friends. No matter the obstacles, I could not miss the opportunity to post even if it’s the last day of DVAM.

I pray that you are all well, healthy, and happy!🙏🏽

Okay, so I have been on a sabbatical, taking much needed time to reflect on the God in me that allows me to survive unthinkable amounts of physical, emotional, mental and financial trauma, and experiencing it all with gratitude, love and an inner knowing that it is all in Divine order!

I have had many good, loud, purging, screaming, and cleansing cries over the last few months. It’s the times of struggle that defines us. The picture of my back was from a fall the morning of July 26th. I was getting ready to have brunch that was spearheaded by my dear classmate that I have known since the first grade, along with my sister, nephew, great-niece, 1 other classmate, and our 6th grade teacher, who is now 90 years old and yet I’m the one that showed up in a wheelchair.😵‍💫🤪

With God’s Grace and anointing, I was able to rise once again, get dressed and enjoy brunch with my family, friends, and reminisce with our favorite teacher with no one knowing the near fatal catastrophe that happened; it is truly the God in me.

It wasn’t until the very next morning when my sister came in the bathroom to help me tie my dress. She saw my back and yelled: OH MY GOD, WTF?

I was like what? She took a picture, showed it to me and remembered I had fallen and spent about 35 minutes on the floor working it out in my mind and physically struggling to get up; giving true meaning to the phrase: “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up”.🤤😂

I was reminded of just how much I had become numb to physical pain and how I have mastered the art of navigating through it and compartmentalizing the “what if’s” and “why’s”, into God, HOW can I use my struggles to make a difference for others and make them count for a purpose greater than myself? I am in constant prayer about “whose life can I impact in a powerful way?

Just when I thought I was immune to physical pain, God intervened to remind me that I wasn’t.

On Wednesday, September 24th, I woke up at dark-thirty in the morning to ride into work with my sister so that we could run a few errands after she got off.

As per usual, I was in my office, i.e.; the handicapped accessible bathroom stall on the 1st floor.😂. It’s quiet, warm, with low traffic, and the perfect place to pray, meditate, read, write and make calls when necessary.

Well, in some kind of weird, unexplainable way, I fell, and when I crashed into the unforgiving tile floor, I actually heard my bones crack, my head hit the wall, the room was spinning, it probably took a good 30-45 seconds before I could take a breath, and knew immediately that I had broken a couple of ribs. The adrenaline in my body somehow gave me the strength to pull myself up.

I mean, this wasn’t my first rodeo and had fallen and broken my ribs on more than 8 other occasions over the past 30 years but never went to the doctor because I had no insurance and I know that there’s really nothing you can do. Other than alternating ice and heat, they pretty much just have to heal themselves plus I have a HIGH tolerance for pain!

Baybayyyyy, by Friday the 26th, out of sheer excruciating pain I was in tears. My sister knew this pain was different because I rarely cried, if ever after a fall. At first she was going to drive me to the E.R., but when I didn’t care about my hair, or what I had on, or how I looked, could barely move without tears streaming down my face and wincing in pain, my sister was like oh hell naw, sprung into action and called 911. I was taken by ambulance to Memorial Herman E.R. I knew there was not much to be done except rest and stillness, so I really went to get a prescription for some Tylenol 3 and pain relief!

EMT’s knew my pain level was at a +10 from my loud, curdling scream when they picked me up to put me on the gurney. I was immediately hooked up to an IV and given a low dose of fentanyl and morphine. Praise God - I could breathe!

Well, after x-rays and a dye cast cat scan/MRI, I was informed that I didn’t crack a couple of ribs, or 3, or 4, or even 5. I broke 6 ribs!😵‍💫 Yessssss, 6!!! I also had a little internal bleeding from the impact and air pockets around my lungs so I WAS ADMITTED?!?!?!? Dammit Mannnnn! WTH? They wanted to monitor me for pneumonia, a concussion, to make sure the bleeding didn’t intensify, and run a myriad of tests.

The pic of my hands was from the 5 nights/6 days I spent in ICU, and my sister never left my side. I had IV’s of fluids, antibiotics, given pain meds, and muscle relaxers every 4-6 hours, a blood thinner shot daily to prevent blood clots, I had respiratory treatments twice daily and physical and occupational therapy daily. Crazzzzy!

My E.R. Trauma Doctor saw my right elbow that I broke and had surgery on back in 1997 (the onset of my condition) where I received 2 metal plates and 16 screws to repair it. Well, after 100’s and 100’s of falls on it, my skin was like fu@k it and just disappeared, so one of the screws was exposed, and he was concerned about infection. He took a picture of it and said he was going to send it to his brother, who happened to be an orthopedic surgeon.

After several x-rays, the next day both Dr. Harvin’s came to my room. He looked at it and offered to wash it out and remove the exposed hardware with surgery.  I gratefully accepted and had surgery on Monday September 29th, and was finally released from the hospital on Wednesday October 1st.

I had one follow up with the orthopedic surgeon a week and a half later. Dr. Harvin wasn’t happy because there was a tiny whole still present where the screw used to be, he took a picture of it and sent it to his friend who was a plastic surgeon. He came over immediately and said that he could easily take care of it. I had that corrective surgery last Friday, October 24th.🤯

I cried and prayed often while I was there, definitely from the physical pain, but mostly because I was filled with a grateful heart! God showered me with the best of humanity. I experienced so much unconditional love and support from my family, friends and the compassion, care, support and assistance from complete strangers. Every nurse, doctor, x-ray tech, therapists, etc., I was reminded of the goodness that still exists in the world.

When I tell you my family has been through it! As if my sister didn't have enough to deal with taking care of me, and working full-time, after I was home for 1 day, my nephew had extreme back pain, and was rushed to E.R. by ambulance was released and my sister went back and forth to the E.R. 3 days in a row with him until he was finally admitted, had surgery and is now in recovery.❤️‍🩹🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽.

Thank God my brother was in town and was able to stay with him at the hospital, brought us food, and fruit for days and my pillar of strength sister, my rock and shero stayed with me because I literally could do nothing on my own. I was still in quite a bit of pain from 6 broken ribs on the left, and a broke down, wrapped up, couldn’t bend elbow on the right!

We may be under attack but the enemy will not win!!! It only strengthens our bond and resolve to press through. Believing in God's Grace, Mercy and Blessings!

In the midst of all that has happened with me physically, I am still faced with processing through emotional, mental and financial trauma. Just since March this year I have had to hire a 5th attorney for a divorce that was final October 13, 2023. During my absence from any interaction/connection with social media, I have had a few epiphanies:

**This series is not at all about who the fu@k did I divorce. It’s all about “what the fu@k I have survived, what I have endured, what I have learned about myself as a result of having survived it, with the ability to smile, laugh, experience joy, and HOW the fu@k I have done it!”

**I realized that it doesn’t cost me anything to share my story of struggles with vulnerability, transparency and truth, with the hope that it can make a difference and help others, but would cost me everything if I didn’t.

**Out of all the physical, emotional, and financial trauma, abuse and ugliness I have and am experiencing, I can still see the beauty through all of it!

In the wake of new revelations in my own situation, 3 of my dear friends experiencing trauma from betrayal and divorcing a narcissist, all the women I have met dealing with abuse, the Diddy trial hearing some of the testimony from survivors, witnesses, and even those who at one time were complicit with, protected, and accepted his behavior out of fear or because of money but are now speaking out; I am haunted by the familiarity of it. It breaks my heart, and continues to strengthen my resolve to use my voice!

Although every experience with abuse and trauma may be vastly different, the profile of the abuser, as well as the culture of those that enable them, are identical.

To every person walking this path, I see you. I see the impossible choices you make. I see the grief and the courage it takes to set boundaries and walk away.

I know what it’s like to feel alone, to cry when no one is watching, and to pray for those who seek to harm, hurt and destroy. You are not alone.

Stay Tuned for Part 37 of:

The Chronicles Of Being Sarah Marie -

“You Just Can’t Make This Shit Up”; “What he Fu@k Have I Survived? How Have I Done It?”🦋♥️

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