This is me

This Is me

I love this song. It represents so many of my inner thoughts, it resonates with my heart. Over and over again I am asked why I do what I do. How I got to where I am. Why I believe the things I believe. It’s impossible, to sum up, a lifetime of experiences in a few thousand words on a blog post, and harder still in a couple of sentences on social media.

I cry every time I hear this song right now. It touches a place so deep inside me. It calls for contemplation and story. So I will attempt to share what this song means to me, and answer the questions: who are you and why do you do what you do?

Be moved by the music and Kealea’s story.

I am every time. Then keep reading.

I am not a stranger to the dark
Hide away, they say
‘Cause we don’t want your broken parts

I, Amy, am no stranger to the desperation and isolation of pain. The depths of my pain and hopelessness are contained within this blog as I experienced it. I relate to the dark, to hiding away all of me. The good the bad, the dreams, the hopes… Pain ate at me until it felt like nothing was left. I want to die or be fixed, but I couldn’t continue to exist like I was. There was no energy to help myself. I was at the end of my very soul. It was a horribly dark time that words fail to accurately share. From my perspective I was worthless, hopeless, a horrible mom, a burden on my husband and the world, and had nothing to give. All I was were broken parts, that no one could possibly want. My pain had consumed my life, my purpose, my meaning – and the heart of me. At the point I decided on surgery, it was surgery or suicide. I had never felt more unloveable in my life.

I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars
Run away, they say
No one’ll love you as you are

How could anyone love me? I couldn’t work, and I couldn’t parent. I was broken and battered as a sexual abuse survivor. I was adopted. A sweet wonderful 16-year-old was brave and gave birth and gave me to another family, but maybe, maybe it wasn’t selfless, maybe she couldn’t love me. Even as a baby, the possibility loomed that I wasn’t wanted. I was unworthy of love. I was too much, too needy, too broken. My body was broken and I couldn’t fix it. There seemed to be no answers, for decades. No one could possibly love me like this. Why would they? My marriage was broken and I couldn’t fix it. I had nothing to give. Pain consumed most of my moments. I couldn’t see a way out. I felt small and invisible. So deeply and painfully scared. So desperately unworthy.

And I know that I deserve your love
There’s nothing I’m not worthy of

When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out

This is brave, this is bruised
This is who I’m meant to be, this is me

Look out ’cause here I come (look out ’cause here I come)
And I’m marching on to the beat I drum (marching on, marching, marching on)

I’m not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me

(Whenever the words wanna cut me down
I’ll send the flood to drown them out)
This is me

I will share, as long as you ask me to. I will keep asking others to share their stories too.  You can listen to the stories of others here .

In March 2019 you can read my memoir Restoring Venus: A Journey from Chronic Pain to Possibilities.

You can also hear more of my story here:

Mark Kargela from Modern Pain Care: Listen to Amy Busch Eicher’s story of triumph over a very difficult chronic pain situation. She has the unique perspective of being a physical therapy assistant and also a patient. She shares a ton of valuable information that we can all learn from as clinicians and patients.

Interviewed by my talented daughter Erin on my podcast Restoring YOU