The process of coming to accept what has happened to me has been and still is like ripping the bandage off of a fresh wound. This is the only way I can explain it....as I recently experienced this with my 'nephew.' Last weekend when he was at his dad's house he fell and skinned his elbow pretty badly. He needed to take the bandage off....and as I peeked under it, I could see that his elbow was still bleeding. In that moment, he was terrified of the prospect of pain to follow ripping the bandage off of his cut. It took lots of coaxing, heavy breathing and reassurance that everything would be okay...but we finally got the bandage off with warm water and minimal tears. If anything, it was more a mental strife than a physical one--despite the fact that both, at the moment, seemed equally distressing.
As I continue to try and live in the stage of acceptance, I find myself taking two steps forward, and ten steps backwards. However, I'm finding more and more that I'm tiring of myself and so are others. Thus making me feel more foolish for feeling sad.