Good Life Project - Finding Grace in the Face of Unrelenting Pain: Ruthie Lindsey

Episode Date: March 12, 2018

Ruthie Lindsey escaped paralysis after a car accident in her late teens, but found herself in unrelenting and mysterious pain. A cocktail of medication dulled it a bit, but left her struggling to function. Years later, the pain remains and, in fact, through circumstances revealed in our conversation, has only worsened. Yet, to look at Lindsey's stunningly-joyful instagram feed, you'd think she lives a life of care-free joy, lightness and abundance. In no small way, you'd be right. But, it's not because the pain ever left, it is because she became intentional about how she chose to live with it.-------------Have you discovered your Sparketype yet? Take the Sparketype Assessment™ now. IT’S FREE (https://sparketype.com/) and takes about 7-minutes to complete. At a minimum, it’ll open your eyes in a big way. It also just might change your life.If you enjoyed the show, please share it with a friend. Thank you to our super cool brand partners. If you like the show, please support them - they help make the podcast possible. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The pain itself in the hospital is, I would have told you before that surgery that I lived at a 9 or a 10. I didn't have a clue that it could be so much worse. Like, I was like, oh, I thought I knew pain. Just kidding. Like, this is a pain I didn't know was possible. So when I opened the door to welcome today's guest, Ruthie Lindsay, I literally was greeted with a ray of light, a sort of a human bundle of joy and lightness, which is pretty incredible considering that along with all that joy and radiance and beautiful service and sense of just love. She lives in constant pain, physical pain

that is progressively getting worse every year. When she was 16 years old, after living what she would describe as a pretty charmed life, she was in a car accident that left her in a hospital for a month with a rewired upper spine. Everything seemed to be going along fine until about five, six years later when everything fell apart and her world was turned upside down yet again. How she's coped with that, what actually happened, how it sent her into a very dark place for many years

and the decision that she made and the trigger that it would take to have her respond profoundly differently to a pain that, as we sat and had a conversation, still was very much a part of her everyday, every moment experience. It was something that rattled me, that inspired me, that endeared me, and that gave me hope that we can experience pain and suffering as all of us either have or currently are or at some point will and still live a deeply connected, meaningful, and potentially even joyful life.

So excited to share this conversation with you. I'm Jonathan Fields, and this is Good Life Project. Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised. This is Good Life Project. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch,

getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series 10, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required. Charge time and actual results will vary. I was a really sweet, good kid. I made friends really easily and things came just pretty naturally. I had a hard time in school,

but not socially. Like I, I don't know, there's been so much coming out lately about, I've been watching some documentaries with friends and dealing with like bullies. And I just watched Dear Evan Hansen and I was like weeping, but it's, that was never my experience. Like I don't have, and people think that I probably would have been, cause I've been, I'm six feet tall and I've been this height since I was 13, but I wasn't like picked on. And so I never had, things just came really easily. Socially, I made friends really easily. I was just a really good kid and really happy, but also like pretty surfacy, you know, I

needed people to like me and I wanted to be liked by everyone. And that kind of drove me. And so I was just, yeah, just a happy little moral kid. All right. You threw in that word moral at the end. Well, it's funny because I was like, most of my friends were really wild. And they, you know, started having sex really early and started doing drugs and drinking a lot. And I, well, when I had the fear of God and my dad of getting in trouble, I just, the idea of getting in trouble

was my worst nightmare or disappointing anyone. But then I also really loved that people looked up to me and it made me different that I was like the only one that wasn't, you know? So I liked feeling special. I liked feeling like the only one I liked being looked up to. So it wasn't like I had this moral high't like I had this moral high ground because I had this deep conviction for something. It was more of just, I liked to be different and I wasn't interested in those things. Like I had more fun than most people and I was never drinking, you know? And I was like, oh, it made them act so silly. And I watched it and then everyone was so dramatic about boys and all the other things. And that did not interest me at all.

Like I had no desire to be involved in that. So yeah, it just, it was just my natural, you know, thing. And then. But you still felt, it seems like you felt really accepted. I did. I felt so, I felt very cared for. I mean, I realize now as an adult, what a gift it was. I never went a day without knowing how loved and not just loved, but like treasured. I felt treasured. I slept in my oldest brother's room until he graduated high

school. He was so incredible to me and loved me so well. And he was like the cool kid. He's like seven years older than me. And I would go find him. We went to this tiny, tiny school. I did until eighth grade. He graduated there. And I would go find him every lunch went to this tiny, tiny school. I did until eighth grade. He graduated there. And I would go find him every lunch break and go sit in his lap. And like, I'd make, you know, signs for his locker. And he just, I mean, loved me so, so well. And so did, I mean, all the men in my life did, you know? So it was just, I didn't realize that that's not everyone's experience. And it's so the exception, you know, and I just felt treasured. I don't know, it was such a gift they gave me of just knowing my worth and knowing it had more to do with than anything. Like so many women feel like their appearance is all they have to offer. And that's

such a hard thing, you know, and that wasn't like what I was praised for by the men in my life. It was just, they just valued like my opinion. And, you know, we could just laugh about so many things. And they would compliment me on things that didn't have anything to do with how I looked or I don't know. I just feel like it was a very unique gift that I was given in my home, you know. I mean, it sounds like almost I hate to use the word charmed, but it sounds like a charmed childhood. I mean, we had our stuff just like everyone else. But for the most part, like it was just a really sweet existence.

And I was delusional enough to think that other people had the same sort of experience as me. And I just thought people were genuinely just happy and they had a good life. And, you know, they got to go home to a house that they felt excited to go home to and they felt really loved. And I mean, I obviously didn't have a freaking clue about the world at all, but I just, yeah, I was just living in kind of a surfacy, light, happy existence. And I felt a lot of like favor, which feels weird to even say, but things just came really naturally. Like I was loved easily and I made friends easily and things just kind of happen in a really sweet way. They just would kind of land in my lap, you know? And so I don't think I was really, it was interesting when hard things did start happening. I had a lot of entitlement around pain and suffering and hard

things because I don't think I was really taught how to, or I never had learned how to suffer well or what it looks like. I was kind of shielded from a lot of that kind of stuff. And so I didn't know how to do it at all. I failed miserably at suffering for a long time. Does anybody really know how to do it until you actually, I think it's one of those things where you can watch documentaries, you can read books, you can see other people's suffering for various different reasons on various levels.

But unless and until you experience it yourself, which at some point in life, we all will, there's no like, you know, DNA deep understanding of what it is and how to navigate it. So let's explore because you're living this beautiful life. High school, like a senior year, everything changes. Yeah.

So my senior year, I had organized a group of people to go into Baton Rouge for like a hang to celebration station. And we had stopped at a gas station. Everyone else had gone inside to get alcohol. I didn't drink. So I just was waiting. And I didn't know how to get to where we were going because I have the absolute worst sense of direction in life. And I was the last car. And so I was trying to keep up with everyone. And I pulled out on a major highway in front of an ambulance. And he hit me on my car door going about 65. And I broke three ribs. They punctured

my lungs. My lungs collapsed. My spleen ruptured. And then I broke C ribs. They punctured my lungs, my lungs collapsed, my spleen ruptured. And then I broke C1 and C2, which are the very top two vertebrae in your neck. Right, right in your skull. Yeah. And they're like at your brainstem basically. And so- So were you unconscious at this point? I don't remember any of it. I mean, what we do know is the ambulance driver saved my life. I had a 5% chance to live and a 1% chance to walk with my particular break. But if it had not been an ambulance driver, I wouldn't be here. Like he

knew how to stabilize my neck, get me breathing again without hurting. Like if someone had just tried to pull me out of the car to get me breathing again without stabilizing my neck first, like I would be brain dead or paralyzed, you know? And so I was just... You're also, you were in a caravan with a whole bunch of other friends at that point too, but you were the last car. I was the last car. So did they know what happened? But my best friend in high school was in the car with me and my car door ended up in the passenger seat and he was not touched and he helped the ambulance driver save my life. I know if I had heard either of them, like, cause it was my fault. I just think about how different my world would be today, you know? In terms of just

your sense of responsibility? Yeah. And just, I think that you can't walk away from like, I mean, killing someone without being deeply, deeply affected by that. And that changing the lens in which you see the world that you've, you know, experienced such, I mean, I experience a lot of pain daily because of that accident, but it just affects me, you know, and if it were affecting someone else or if my actions had done that to someone, I don't know. I just think that I'd be different today. Yeah, I would imagine. So you, you wake up in the hospital. How long were you in the hospital? About a month. I was on life support for a while. I don't remember a whole lot from the hospital. Interesting getting, you know, takes About a month. I was on life support for a while. I don't remember a whole lot from the hospital.

Interesting getting, you know, takes from other people. I think at the time it was way harder for everyone else than it was for me. It was way harder for my family and friends. I was doped up on every drug under the sun and on life support, didn't know what the hell was happening, you know, but they were aware of everything. Have you talked to them? I mean, especially your parents, like about how they experienced that. Yeah, it was really traumatizing, especially, I mean,

my dad could barely spend time there. It made him, it just upset him so much to see me suffering. And my mom never left the hospital. She slept with my room with me every night while I was there. Yeah. It's, and then they said, it's interesting because I don't remember any of this, but like my hands were chained down and I was on life support in ICU. And my mom said that like every time, and this was like a subconscious thing, you know, but that every time someone would come in the room and that I was alert enough to realize it, that I would hold my hands up so that I could hold their hands. And that I would like smile. It was like I was like trying to host or like greet them. And I would smile. You could see me smiling with like my eyes in my mouth, even though I was like on life support. And it's just interesting that like, I don't know,

that was just something in me, you know, because I don't remember it. I don't know anything about that time other than I guess, I don't know. I just wanted other people to feel okay in that space. Because I could tell, like, I would wake up, I remember, and I would see people crying over me. And I'm just like, I didn't understand what was going on, you know. But I never, I don't ever remember waking up feeling, like, super panicked or scared or, I don't know. Do you remember when you first, like, really woke up from this? I don't have. Do you remember when you first really woke up from this? I don't have a specific memory. My friend Brian told me

that one of the first words he heard me say was when I was in the, I don't know if it was MRI or CAT scan and I'm a little claustrophobic and he said that my first words were, excuse me,

I'm very uncomfortable in here. Where now I'm like, get me the fuck out of here. You know, I was like polite and sweet, you know, which is just so funny. I was a lot sweeter than I think. And I think I'm kinder now, but like I was sweet, you know, it's just, it's just funny. Yeah. So you emerged from that. Super lucky. I, back then they took, when I did my neck surgery, they took bone out of my hip, infused it with wire, they wrapped it around my neck. And I was so lucky. I was young and I had youth and health

and all those things on my side. And so I just kind of went back to life as normal. And I didn't have any real residual effects at the time. I wore a neck brace for like six months. I graduated high school on time. Actually, the rec were about to come up on the anniversary, which was my dad's birthday. And I literally went back to school after Christmas, graduated on time, went to college, had the best time. Like if I, by looking at me, you'd never know. Like all my scars are hidden from clothing and my hair. And I just, if I dance too much, I might get sore. But otherwise, like I didn't have any real effects of it. And so life just went on. Yeah, life went on. And I, it was some, sometimes

I would tell the story, it was almost like I was talking about it in third person, because it hadn't affected my life really yet, you know, and it was just like a cool story. And I love telling stories. So I could tell it very disconnected from it, like it happened to someone else. And because at the time, it didn't change anything in my life. It was just a really interesting story to tell. You know, until I guess so I went on, I got a job in Nashville right out of school. And I had the best time. And it was just, I met all these amazing people.

I didn't know anyone when I moved there. And about a year. You got married somewhere. Yeah, about a year into it, I met my first boyfriend. And my parents were like so stoked because they thought I liked girls. I was like, I wish that he was a boy. They were real excited about it. And I, we got married like 10 months after we met.

We're like guilty Christians feeling shame about sex. And we were just idiots and knew nothing about marriage or what that meant or what that actually looked like. But we were also just really hopeful. And things had always worked out. So I just assumed life was going to be great. We bought a house. And we were living in the neighborhood I still live in now.

And just were like, you know, life's going to be so good. We'll start having kids in a few years. And he is a musician. We went on tour and life was really exciting, you know, because I didn't have a clue about life yet. And then like about a year into our marriage, one day I was walking in front of the Starbucks and Smoothie King and I had this shooting pain go up my neck and I didn't know what it was, but it like literally dropped me to my knees and I like blacked out for a second. And

then I felt like I was going to vomit. And then I was left with this like searing migraine headache that wouldn't go away. Had you ever felt anything like that before? This was the first time I'd ever felt it. And it scared me to death, like truly scared me to death. And so it started happening more and more frequently. And so I started this very long process of going to so many different doctors. And every time the neurologist or the orthopedic surgeon would see me, they'd have me do, and I always forget if it's the MRI or CAT scan,

but this black spot would come back on my films and they would look at everything and they'd be like, oh, that's just the magnet in the machine interacting with the wire from your fusion. And, but everything around that looks fine. You know, we started a ton of different therapies, nothing helped, but I was desperate. Did, had this become a regular pain at that point or was it recurring? It was becoming more and more regular. At first it was more sporadic and then slowly just started happening more and more and more often. And I became less and less functional as, you know, it became more and more frequent.

And then, you know, therapies were not working. So then they started me on pain medication. So they're just kind of surrounded with the, that we can't figure it out. Let's just try and well, or they just were like, this is you were, you know, you had trauma on your body. So this is kind of your setting pain setting in like, this is gonna be a part of your life. Like, let's learn how to, you know, let's try things. But then it would always come around to like, we just have to learn how to manage it. And there's try things, but then it would always come around to like, we just have to learn how to manage it. And there was never a clearly identified, like that's what it is.

Right. Exactly. How are you with, with that prognosis? I never, I think I was too scared to go any deeper than that. I don't know. I was, I was, I felt pretty paralyzed and traumatized. And I didn't even realize I had a lot of PTSD around hospitals. From the original? Yeah. Like even just going to the smell of a hospital, because it's weird because it was such a faint, it was, you know, but I had not had any reason to go to the doctor or the hospital after my wreck until this point. And so I would get really panicky every time we go. And, and it just, it began this very long downward spiraling road that took years to recover from, but I was just, I became less and less functional and they started giving me more and more medication. And I was so desperate to

not hurt all the time that I took absolutely everything they recommended, you know, cause I was just panicked. Were you able to work at that point? I was you know, because I was just panicked. Were you able to work at that point? I was at first, but then everything just gradually shut down. Like I worked for like probably two, two and a half more years. But then I was also working. It was a very flexible job. And my boss was the most amazing. And, you know, so I was able to be way more flexible.

And they were great about like if I couldn't do things that I didn't, you know, so I was able to be way more flexible and they were great about like if I couldn't do things that I didn't, you know. But I eventually stopped working and there was more reasons than just my pain why I wasn't. I was working at a church and there was a lot of gross stuff happening there. But I eventually just was living in my bed. I mean, full time for the most part, like not functional at all. Pain became my defining role. Like, and I've now looking back, you know, it's such an interesting thing to be able to look back, like pain became who I define myself as and how other, because we teach

people how to see us, that's how everyone else saw me, you know? And so I couldn't see someone without them being like, how are you doing? Are you okay? And in this really probably gross subconscious way, I found a lot of comfort in that sympathy because it also just kind of justified my lifestyle of being like a terrible wife and a bad friend and not working and not adding anything. People didn't expect anything of me anymore. And also at the same time, it sounds like you're in a lot of pain medication, which also completely alters who you are.

Yeah, because it was so gradual, I didn't realize I was becoming more and more of a shadow of myself. And it's interesting because no one in that time, if they met me, were ever like, she's dope. I never abused it. I wasn't like, and because it was such a gradual buildup, your body becomes more and more accustomed to it. So you would have never once seen me and been like, whoa, she has a problem,

you know? Because like, I laugh now if my personality is like, I live at like a nine because I'm over the top. Like, it probably made me like a five, which that's normal, you know? So it just, it just kind of numbed my normal, like their light wasn't there anymore. And I wasn't excitable and I wasn't, I was numb to everything, you know? So I was just like, I was still pleasant. I was never mean. I was never angry. I never like got vicious with anyone on these drugs, but I was just a shadow.

Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot him. We need him. Y'all need a pilot.

Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch, getting you 8 hours of charge in just 15 minutes.

The Apple Watch Series 10. Available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone XS or later required, charge time and actual results will vary. What was your thinking? What was your internal thought process about the pain and your life with the pain while you were going through that?

It was so dark. It felt so hopeless. And it just became more and more hopeless. There were times where I was totally panicked by it. There were times where I was just completely shut down and numb about it. And then the other time, it was mostly just depressing. It felt so depressing. I just remember I would lay

there. We put black, you know, garbage bags on the window because I didn't sleep much. I couldn't sleep because I wasn't doing anything. So of course I wasn't sleeping because I was just not tired. I just laid in bed all day. So we put black garbage bags on the window so light wouldn't come in in the day. And I would just lay there each day and be like, man, people are out like living their life. You know, I would look on like Facebook and like, I wish I was out playing with my children and not laying here hurting every second of every day and being miserable, you know? And I just, I felt really sorry for myself and I felt really scared and really hopeless. I mean, it sounds like you're also, you're super close with your family. Were they aware of what was going on during this window or were you kind of shielding them?

They definitely had access, but not the full story. Like I didn't. Because you had moved away. Right. Oh, yeah. I lived 10 hours away. And I mean, I know they were definitely concerned, for sure concerned. But they didn't know. I mean, I kind of felt freedom, like when my husband would

tour, because then I wouldn't feel guilty about staying in my bed, you know? So I think pain can make you check out, isolate, withdraw. So I had just done that, but could keep up, like I could show up somewhere and do what I needed to do and then leave and go get straight back in my bed. And no one knew to the extent of how much time I was living in my bed, you know? So they were concerned though, for sure. Yeah. It sounds like in addition to the pain and to the whatever effects the drugs had that you were, I mean, a lot of the symptoms you're talking about also would really be consistent with like a deep depression. Oh yeah. I definitely had situational, you know, depression. I was on depression medication and I was on literally every, I mean, a bag filled with drugs. I was on everything that they ever, ever, ever recommended. And I was desperate to the max. And so I never questioned any of it. And I never questioned like to see

what was under that black spot. Like I never, I think I was, I was pretty paralyzed in most ways, you know, and, and that whole thing just kept getting worse and worse. And that went on for like four and a half years or so. This just trajectory of living in my bed more and more and more and becoming less and less functional this just trajectory of living in my bed more and more and more and becoming less and less functional and going darker and darker and my depression and pain getting worse and worse. And finally, my mother-in-law at the time was like, I can't, you know, I know it's really expensive to go see these doctors. I know you've seen a ton. I know they've all said the same thing, but it can't hurt to see one more and I'll pay for it. So I was like,

in my head, I'm like, bless her heart. They're going to say the same thing, but she's so sweet. So sure. And so I went to this one more doctor and brought all these films. And he was like, I can't tell you what's going on until I see what's under that black spot. And in my head, I was like, oh, right. That makes so much sense. But I don't know if subconsciously I didn't even really want to know. I don't know. But basically I got this phone call, like he had me do like a $50 x-ray and I got this like. And that had never been done before. Never done. And basically this like stoic sounding, very like monotone man leaves me like the most frantic sounding voicemail and wanted me to come right back to the doctor's office. And basically what we found out is one of the wires from my spinal cord fusion had broken and pierced into my brainstem.

And he was like, you know, basically no one had ever seen that before or heard of that. They're like, you should be paralyzed already. If you don't get it out, you will be. But surgery itself was like incredibly high risk of paralysis. And I was terrified, mortified, terrified, just horrified. Like I wanted to just crawl in a ball in the fetal position and go away because it just scared me. I was paralyzed. Right. So it's sort of like here are your options. Pick the least worst of them.

Yeah. Like you have to have the surgery because if you don't, you'll be paralyzed. But like you might not come out of it walking, you know, and no one had ever done the surgery. So it's not like you can go off experience with a doctor that knows what's happening because like no one's ever seen this before, you know? And so then it was just this crazy season of life. Like I went home, I was scared to death. And a few weeks later, my dad, who we call Papa, he had told my mom and my godfather, he's going to come see me and tell me that he would sell our farm so I could have this surgery because insurance, it was a preexisting injury and they would not cover it. So that was added to, so for you, you're like, okay, so you're paralyzed without it. You may be paralyzed with it. And even if you can have it, it's, I'm guessing it's extremely expensive and you have no insurance to cover it. Right. And so, and just my pain in

general up to that point had cost us money we didn't have. You know, so that also, that financial stress had been huge throughout our whole marriage. And so my dad, on his way the night before he was coming to see me, actually had this, like, freak accident and ended up falling down a flight of stairs, and he ended up passing up brain damage. And they brought him to—because he was on his way to Nashville. And so they ended up bringing him to Vanderbilt and we knew that he wasn't going to make it, but we kept him on life support overnight so that my brothers and my mom could get there with me to take him off. And it was just, it was like, it was such a massive loss, not just for my family, but

just for our community as a whole. Like he was one of the most special, like every time when he'd leave my brothers and my presence where kids would say, I love you so much. Remember your manners and always look out for the little guy. And that's what he did. Like he wanted us to love people that others might miss, you know, and love them and enter in. And so in the midst of this like awful, massive nightmare of a season and just traumatic, awful loss, my godfather ended up setting up this medical fund in my dad's honor for me to be able to have this surgery

because he knew that that was his last, you know, that's what he was coming to tell me. And the most beautiful thing happened. Like people started sending me checks with notes and being like, your dad bought my prom dress. Your dad sent me on my senior trip. Your dad paid my rent. Your dad sent me to school. Your dad fixed my, I mean, just on and on and on. And we always like had kids living with this. So I saw, I mean, I saw his generosity all the time, you know, but just, it was the sweetest, most beautiful picture of who he was, you know, and it was crazy because like, he still ended up taking care of me. And because of the way he had loved people, I was able to have this surgery, you know? And, but it was just in the midst. I mean,

I remember I would like lay in my bed at night. I couldn't sleep. And I would just pinch myself until I draw blood literally. And I was just like, I am in a nightmare. Like this cannot be real, you know? Like I'm going to wake up because this can't be real. And I just couldn't imagine a world that my dad didn't exist in, you know? And I mean, you hear people talk about this, like when life gets back to normal, but I just would look at people like I'd sit at a, you know, a restaurant or something. And I would look at people just going about their lives. And I wanted to like scream at the top of my lungs and be like, don't you know that the world just changed so drastically? Like the brightest, most special man isn't here anymore. And you're going

about your life. You know, like it was just, I, my life changed so drastically And, but life goes on, you know, and I, it was hard to imagine life going on. I couldn't imagine it. I just, I wanted to crawl in a ball and just, it'd be over, you know, it was just a dark season. And I guess the one positive thing about having like a freak medical condition is doctors are like chomping at the bit to work on you because they like get off on that shit. And so I was like pursued, you know, I mean, a lot of doctors wanted to do this surgery. And I ended up choosing the Mayo Clinic and this like top neurologist, top orthopedic surgeon ended up doing it together. And it was like a 12 hour surgery. And they ended up taking the wire out and then taking bone from my other hip and then fusing it with titanium screws. And like, you know,

they hoped going into it that it would help with my pain, but they were like, if we don't do the surgery, you won't be walking. So that's the goal for you to be walking. So, so it's, but there was no guarantee that the pain would go away. And so what was so interesting, I mean, the pain itself in the hospital is I would have told you before that surgery that I lived at a nine or a 10. I didn't have a clue that it could be so much worse. Like, I was like, oh, I thought I knew pain. Just kidding. Like, this is a pain I didn't know was possible. It was just intense on a level I didn't know I was capable of feeling.

And I just wanted my dad. But I came out screaming, like, with nothing coming out. Because when you're on life support and they take the chest tube out, you can't speak. And so I was, like, busting blood vessels in my eyes from screaming with no sound coming out, you know, and just like clawing. It was so scary and so awful. But I remember instantly like feeling my legs and I could feel them, you know, so I was so thankful. But I was also traumatized by the amount of pain I was in. So I was at Mayo for a little while. And it was interesting because at first it was just such intense pain. So you don't know for a while what you're going to settle into, what kind of pain you're going to have once the surgery pain goes away.

Because you don't know what's traumatic versus chronic. So it took a while. I mean, I would say it took like a month or maybe two months before the residual what's left pain showed up. And what basically ended up happening is the shooting pain stopped, but then I ended up getting such severe nerve damage that my entire right side just feels like it's on fire at all times. And I guess the best way I know how to describe it is like one time my right foot was standing in fire ants or red ants and I didn't know it. My brother like yelled at me to move and I just had so many red ant bites all the way up my leg. And I didn't know because that's just what it feels like all the time. And so I went into, I would say I left there

on even more medication and I went into an even darker spiral because then I knew it wasn't just a seasonal thing. I'm like, this is like, this is going to be my forever. Like this is, and that felt so hopeless and so depressing to me. And I went straight back to living in my bed and being a total nightmare, like not functional at all and being consumed with pain, you know, and it just kind of went darker and darker and got darker and darker and darker. And I could tell my husband was checking out and he ended up, he was on tour most of the time and I became less and less functional. And I ended up catching this crazy bacterial infection actually while I was in surgery for endometriosis.

I had a small surgery for that. And I got so sick. I got so sick. I couldn't. I kept ending up in the emergency room. But my husband was on tour and like friends would have to take me because I couldn't take care of myself like at all. And I just I ended up hitting a wall that was so much greater than I knew. I didn't know it was possible for me to go that low and that I was capable of being that big of a nightmare. Like I was not functional. I stopped sleeping. I mean, I was just, I would stare off into the distance. I couldn't think straight. I mean, I had a complete full-on nervous breakdown. My family came and got me. I moved back in with my oldest brother into their home. It was the darkest, scariest, most traumatic time of my life. And I would just

lay there having panic attacks all night long. And the thought of like not being on the earth anymore was like, that sounded like such a relief. I did not want to wake up. I didn't want to be there. I did not want to, I didn't want to be alive because I was miserable and I was not functional. And I never experienced shame on that level. I'd always just been such a good kid. And I felt so embarrassed and ashamed of myself that I was that big of a nightmare and that I couldn't take care of myself and that my family had to take care of me. And I just felt like I was a disappointment. And I literally went down a spiraling darkness that I didn't know I was even capable of.

And my family was terrified also. And basically they came to the conclusion that they needed to like send me away for help. And I think they were gonna send me to Johns Hopkins. And that scared me on such a deep fear level that literally the next day out of fear, I started weaning myself off of the drugs because I did not wanna get sent away.

Sent away as in sort of like an institution? Yeah, like a treatment facility. Where it's like residential. Yeah. And that they could deal with like the drugs and pain and how to manage pain. Because your family must have at that point just been, I mean, essentially living their own hell too, being so close to you and trying to, feeling kind of helpless. Yeah. And I wasn't even there anymore. Like I was not my, I was not there. They had, I was gone. And that, but like that idea of being shipped away, like literally scared me

and terrified me into a panic so deeply that I was like, they are not sending me away. And so the next day, literally, I just started cutting everything, you know? And what was the goal though? I mean, to not be on the drugs and not get sent away. That was it. That was literally my only goal. But at that time, did you also think to yourself, okay, so I'll, I'll be off the drugs. So it'd be a little more functional, but the drugs are what's keeping the pain from being. I didn't even think that it would make me more functional. I was into, I couldn't think straight about anything. The thinking came after weeks of winning. Like literally it was all motivated by fear. And that was the best decision I ever made in my life. It was like, this is one single

thing that I can do to reclaim some, like the smallest sense of agency or control. Yes. And exactly. And that decision, I mean, I would, it took me, it ended up taking me four months to wean myself off of everything. But within, I would say a month, my mind started feeling like me again, that I didn't realize was gone. Did your family know that you were doing this? Yes. Was that what stopped them from? Yeah.

And there was movement up to that point. There was no movement. I was just paralyzed by pain and fear and darkness and panic attacks, you know? And so there needed to be some sort of movement one way or the other. And so this was like a movement in the right direction. So they let me stay there, you know? And so there needed to be some sort of movement one way or the other. And so this was like a movement in the right direction. So they let me stay there, you know? And so I would say about a month in or a few weeks in, I made a list that I would scratch off of, like, I had to relearn, truly had to relearn how to live. It was like at 8 a.m. you get up and you put your feet on the ground and you make the bed and you're not allowed to get in it again until it's dark outside.

And then I would write down like, I mean, it was just like such basic stuff. Like at 8.15, you take a bath and brush your teeth. And I would scratch it off and feel like I'd done something productive that day, you know? And I had to do that throughout the day. And I would scratch the most, like literally eat a cereal bar, scratch it off, you know? It was like basic, basic things. And then eventually I made this other list. And I remember writing down, I had to make myself remember things that I had loved to do before I had pain. Because at the time, I didn't care about anything. I literally cared about nothing. I remember I would look at my nieces and nephews who I love on a level I cannot even describe, and I couldn't

feel love for them. I just felt numb and black inside. And so at the time, I started writing these things down that I knew that I loved. And I would make myself every day do one thing on that list. Like, I mean, it was so basic. Like, you love flowers. So I would like make myself go pick flowers. You love sunsets. And like, I didn't give a shit about sunsets at that time. Like I would go sit and I'm like, you love this. This is pretty. And I would say out loud the things that I know to be true, but didn't feel. And what was so beautiful, I remember all of a sudden, like it became this great lesson for me that I didn't even know I was doing at the time that I think so often in life, we think that the emotion has to be there first before the action. But what I realized in that time is like, I was always waiting for my pain to be better before

I would start living again. And I had to start living to let my pain become less of the defining factor. And like, I had to choose these things, these actions, like go see beautiful things and trust that the emotions around those beautiful things will eventually come. And so like at that time, you know, I think we all do it. It's like, I will be happy once I get this job or this boyfriend or this baby or this house or the whatever. We all do it, you know? And for me, it was, I'll be happy once my pain goes away. But I had to choose certain emotions knowing that my pain wouldn't go away. And not even I'll be happy, but I'll start to re-engage with life once my pain goes away. Absolutely. That was my mindset. And I remember my brother saying the most basic thing, but he was like, babe, you can lay in your bed and hurt all the time.

Or you can get out of bed and live your life and like serve people and hurt. Like, and what's so amazing, like, what's your better option? And what's so amazing is when you do those things, you're not going to be thinking about your pain like you do when you're living in your bed. But like for the longest time, I didn't do anything that I thought would make my pain worse. So I didn't travel. I didn't dance. I didn't do the things that I love so much because I knew it would make my pain feel

worse. But what I know now is like when I lived in my bed, that's all I thought about was my pain. That's it. It consumed every thought in my bed, that's all I thought about was my pain. That's it. It consumed every thought in my mind. And now like sitting with you right now, I'm not thinking about my ever present pain, you know, because I can focus on things that are like life giving. And then like, yeah, like, it's there. It doesn't go away, but I'm able to like push it back enough to be engaged. Whereas if I'd stayed on my heating pad this morning, which all parts of me

wants to pretty much every morning when I get up, because it's really hard to get up, you know, like, and I make myself go in the day so that it comes at a really big cost, you know, so I don't sleep much. And, but when I show up and I like actually live life, it fills me on a level that I can't even just, it just, it gives me life, you know? And so I started seeing glimmers of that. Like I remember having this image of myself getting glasses for the first time in second grade and walking outside and being like, mom, look at the sky, you know, freaking the fook out. And all of a sudden, probably like a month or two into weaning myself off drugs, that's what started happening. Like I started feeling that awe again when I was showing up to life. Like all of a sudden I had this new lens in my eyes to actually see life. Like, and I remember hearing this quote at that time that changed me.

And it's this Khalil Gibran, I probably said that wrong quote, that the deeper sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. And I remember reading that and just getting, I literally just got the chills saying it again, like, I will get to experience joy on such a deep level because of the level of pain that I know. And that became a truth that when I heard that, I knew it was true. But I also knew something deep in me also knew that it became my choice. Because, like, I think with pain, you can choose one or two routes. I had lived on this one lane for, at that point, almost seven years of being completely defined by pain, by becoming a complete victim of it.

It made me harder, and it made me a pessimist, and it made me feel so sorry for myself and just a full victim to what this pain can do. Like all of a sudden, when I started choosing life and choosing joy and choosing to celebrate the beautiful things around me, it became this both and because I realized I had numbed myself for so long with all the drugs that I'd also numbed every good thing. But when I actually had to feel my pain to the death that it was and the loss of my debt, I'd been numb really even to that loss too, you know? So when I completely felt it, but it was staying present and choosing life in the midst of it, all of a sudden everything was so much prettier. Like the sky felt so much

more beautiful. My friends meant so much more to me. My family was like, it was just this beautiful both and, you know, I was holding the depth of my pain and the depth of the goodness in my life in both hands at all times. And that became my like driving force. I was like, I also decided something in me was like, I have to, my job is going to be to seek out beauty and goodness and everything I possibly can. And not only to see it, but to share it. And I don't know, maybe someone had taught me that way before, or I don't know where that necessarily came from, but it was just in me and I knew that I had to do it to be functional. And at first it was because I was trying to believe it. And then like the emotion came and I believed it on every part of me. And like it became my drug almost.

Like that became my medication to like show up to life and to see the goodness that is and the brokenness. Like I wasn't avoiding either of them anymore. You know, I wasn't trying to numb either of them. And I also was so much more aware of the pain around me. Like I told you earlier, before when I was a kid, I just thought everyone's life was good and they were doing great and they were happy and they went home to a life they enjoyed. And all of a sudden, I actually saw people. And my pain and being alert to my pain also gave me empathy in a way that I'd

never known because I'd been numb to everything or I was delusional, you know? And so all of a sudden, like, I think one of the greatest gifts that pain gives you is like, you're going to be able to walk with people on a level that you could like now I can walk with people who are dealing with, you know, loss of a parent or emotional, physical, spiritual pain or, you know, what ended up happening like for me, like divorce. You know, I know that pain. My marriage came to an end and it was, it felt like a death and it was heartbreaking. And it happened about six weeks after I weaned myself off of all the medication. And thank God I was off all the medication because everything in God I was off all the medication

because everything in me wanted to shut down again and isolate and check out. And I was like, no, like you have to get up and you have to choose life. And I had to go through the motions that I did, you know, five months before that. Once again, like scratch off 8 a.m., you know, and get out of bed, make the bed.

And this cool thing happened in that time because I was lucky enough to be in Nashville and surround a bad community that believed in me before I did. And they'd seen my homes that I had decorated and told me I was creative and told me I was good at it. And I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I had no money and no way to support myself. And I was scared to death and I didn't have the luxury of fear. And so I like, I'm like, other people told me I was good at decorating. So I guess I'll tell people I'm a decorator, even though I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm a fraud, you know?

And my brother like paid for me to get a website built and I used only photos from my homes because that's all I'd ever done. And I started saying yes to things. And I started like an Instagram account. And I started just posting the things that I was doing that list of things that I'd love to do before I had pain. I started doing those things and posting about it. And I was like, you know, I would gather flowers and give them away. And I would host people because I love hosting. I love bringing people together. And people started eventually asking me to help them with their things, you know? And I don't know if it's

because they liked what they saw or they felt sorry for me or they thought that's what I already did for a living. I don't know, but I just had to say yes, you know? And it was really interesting because probably like eight months into that, I started having people that didn't know me following me on Instagram. And all of a sudden I started getting those messages that you were talking about earlier, like, your life looks so perfect. And this is so beautiful. I wish I got to do that. Because all they're seeing is like the beautiful hosting and the design. And they're like, oh, my gosh, I wish I were you.

Exactly. And it honestly, those comments made me feel so sick to my stomach because it would just literally shoot me right back to living in my bed, looking on Facebook, thinking I wish I was out playing with my children and not laying here suffering. So it's like you had become the illusion for other people now. Exactly. And I was like, I need to give people the full context because they're only seeing the beautiful things that I was choosing to focus on, but I had not shared about. I was going through a divorce. I miss my dad every day. I live in constant,

constant chronic pain that has gotten worse every year since I can remember it. I need to give them a full context for my joy because the idea that I would do to someone else what I felt without having the full context made me sick. And so I ended up on my website writing out a full, literally everything that had happened. I wrote out, I mean, every gory detail of basically what a nightmare I'd been. And, but also like, I wanted to share this message of like, there is hope for you too. Like whatever trauma, pain, heartache

you're living through right now, this does not have to be the end of your story. There is hope and I feel it now, you know? And so I ended up writing it all out and I was terrified to hit publish because I felt naked. I had just literally it all out and I was terrified to hit publish because I felt naked. I had just literally told all the gory details. And what ended up happening, I think so often we think people are going to be just, we're going to push them away by the gross things inside of us.

And it does the exact opposite, like when you're not in the victim mode of it, right? So I share everything and the hope that comes along with it. And people started writing me, like I just every day would just be bombarded with messages from people who are suffering. And it fueled me in a way that I was like, I realized in that time why I was here. And I didn't know it up to that point. Like, I always thought when kids, when people would ask me when I was a kid what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd be like, a mom, unapologetically. Like, I am here to be a mother and I will be really good at it and don't question me

with it, you know? And that's not my story, you know? And all of a sudden I was like, wait, like the reason I'm here is to share this message of hope in the midst of suffering. And it knowing that it could help other people made my pain feel so purposeful. And so I wanted to share that message in the most authentic way I possibly could. I just wanted to enter in with people and love people. And because in a lot of selfish ways, it helped me not focus on myself and know that it could be helpful for other people. Like my pain is not in vain. That's what it gave me, you know, which it doesn't take away that like, I hate that I wake up hurting every second. I don't want to hurt all the time. Like,

I wish my dad was here. You know, I don't wish divorce on anyone. No one grows up wishing to be divorced one day. Like that is not the story I had lined up for my life. Like, I long to be a mother, you know, and those were not my story. But knowing that my pain could be a way to bring hope for other people that didn't think they could get out of bed. Like literally on the car ride over here, I'm like, I try to respond to every email and it doesn't happen. I do. I really, it means a lot to me, you know? So I'm like responding in the cab on the way over. And like, I still can't not get emotional about it. Cause I'm like this morning I felt so sick from pain, you know? And I'm like, but if for some reason, for some crazy cosmic reason that I don't quite understand, like this pain makes this sweet little girl in Brazil feel like she can get out of bed. Like, that'll never not feel like a complete honor to me, you know? Like, that is so—I wish that people could have the goodness and the grace and the joy that comes from pain without having to experience

what I experience. But I also, I know that that is a crucial part of the process. And I wouldn't have this life that I love so deeply that gives me so much joy and is so fulfilling if all of those things had not happened. Like, if my husband had not left, like, I would have never started my business, ever. And that's not to say in this Pollyanna-ish way, like, and it's great. Like, it fucking sucks. And it's painful and broken. And I don't wish it on anyone, you know? I wish they could have the goodness without the suffering, but I don't think it's possible, not to the depth that it comes, you know? And I can like with full conviction say I wouldn't change one thing that happened. I hate it in a lot of ways, but like something about embracing it and not in the victim

sense, like it's not who I am. Like that's my pain is a piece of my story, but it's not who I am anymore. And I love that my greatest compliment I ever get is when my friends tell me they forget I'm hurting all the time. Like that gives me so much joy because I don't lead with it anymore. You know, it's just a piece of me. And I'm honest about it. Obviously, we're sitting here talking about it. I share my story for a living. But it's no longer my defining factor. It's just a piece. And it's a piece that's made me better, like truly better.

Yeah. So what is your defining factor now? Gosh, I mean, I think that's ever changing. Like, I want to be known as someone who's loved well, who's loved people well. I don't know that I have a defining factor, but if there was something I would want people to feel when they leave me is they feel cared, seen, loved, and know that they matter. And I know I don't always do that well, you know, but that would be, that's my goal. That's my hope. Like before I left, like I wanted

people to feel sorry for me because it justified my lifestyle. Now I want people to leave feeling seen, cared for, special, and know that they fucking matter because they do. Like they matter. Everyone matters, you know? And I think that that's what I would want to be known for, period. That's comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch, getting you 8 hours of charge in just 15 minutes. The Apple Watch Series X, available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone XS or later required, charge time and actual results will vary. Mayday, mayday.

We've been compromised. The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die.

Don't shoot him, we need him. Y'all need a pilot. Flight risk. Well. So, as we hang out here, Good Life Project, so if I offer that phrase out to you, sitting here with what you've been through, with what you're feeling emotionally from a hope and service

and love standpoint, what you're feeling physically, if I offer the question, what does it mean to you to live a good life, what comes up? I love the question, what does it mean to you to live a good life? What comes up? I love that question. For me, why my life feels full and so good and so rich is because I'm surrounded by a community of humans that I love so deeply and love me so well. I'm doing work that feels purposeful, that makes my pain feel purposeful. And I'm no longer scared to say yes to things that are life-giving. Like, it means I get to do road trips with my friends and know that it's going to come at a cost and I'll probably throw up that night from pain, but that it's so worth it. And the things

that I get to see and the people I get to meet and the cultures I get to experience and the food I get to eat, like it is so life-giving to me. Like last night I'm sitting around this living room watching Stranger Things in a room full of humans that I love so deeply. I can't imagine not having them in my life. And I know that I know that I know that I would have never met one of them if my story wasn't what it was. Like if my husband hadn't left, if I didn't have this pain, if I wasn't doing the work, I met all of them after. They are such a life-sustaining gift to me. Like, they are my lifeline. They give me so much.

They make me want to be better. They make me think about things that I wouldn't necessarily think about. They make me want to stand up for things that I would have been scared to talk out about. Like, they make me better. And they make my life good. Like, and also I want to be my best version that I can add the goodness back to them too. You know, it's like we have this mutual exchange that's so beautiful and so rich. Like I can't express to you. I mean, there's still a lot of loss and pain and suffering in my life, you know, but it's so good. It is so sweet. Like,

I don't wish to have anyone else's life. I love my life so much, even the hard stuff, because it makes the good stuff so much better. Like, there's this part of me that I know. Last year, Jed and I did this trip to Vermont. And one morning I saw that one of the longest zip lines, like literally in the world is in Stowe, Vermont. And I was like, dear God, we have to do this. So we bundle up, we leave the crew, he comes with me and it's freezing. And I knew that it would be physically, like you have to, it's physically taxing to do this. Like you have to hold your weight up and it's whatever, whatever. I knew that probably the next day I wouldn't be able to walk. But there's something in me that I think is such a gift that I was given because of this pain,

where because my pain is worse each year, that I don't know what it's going to look like five years from now. I don't know that I'm going to be able to do a lot of the things that I do right now. And if things keep going the way they are, there's a good chance I won't. Not in this pessimistic way, but just realistically, there's a good chance I won't. And so in the sweetest way, it makes me appreciate all of those things so much more on such a deep level. And they feel like such a gift because I just don't know, you know, that I'll ever be able to do these things again. And so it makes me want to freaking suck the marrow out of

every experience and appreciate it and enjoy it and live it like despite my pain. And not only despite it, but because of it, you know, it makes it that much better, richer, more full and more exciting and more joyful. Like this pain has made, I truly believe it's made me so much better, so much better. And it's made my life so good and I wouldn't change it. Thank you. Yeah. Thank you. Yeah. Thank you. Thanks so much for listening. And thanks to our fantastic sponsors. If you love this show, please support them. They help make the podcast possible.

Check out the links in today's show notes. And don't forget, by the way, to grab your spot at this year's Camp GLP. It's an amazing way to step out of your life every day out of the frenzy and just spend time reconnecting with who you really are, meeting amazing new friends and learning a ton along the way. And if you've been waiting, be sure to register now to lock in your $200 super early bird discount. Learn more at goodlifeproject.com slash camp. See you next week. Mayday, mayday. We've been compromised.

The pilot's a hitman. I knew you were going to be fun. On January 24th. Tell me how to fly this thing. Mark Wahlberg. You know what the difference between me and you is? You're going to die. Don't shoot if we need him. Y'all need a pilot.

Flight risk. The Apple shoot if we need them. Y'all need a pilot? Flight risk. The Apple Watch Series 10 is here. It has the biggest display ever. It's also the thinnest Apple Watch ever, making it even more comfortable on your wrist, whether you're running, swimming, or sleeping. And it's the fastest-charging Apple Watch, getting you eight hours of charge in just 15 minutes.

The Apple Watch Series X. Available for the first time in glossy jet black aluminum. Compared to previous generations, iPhone Xs are later required. Charge time and actual results will vary.