Find Your Path: Your Dream Awaits

By Tracilyn George

Do you have questions about the direction your life is going? Are you facing struggles and want answers to overcome them? Do you have a dream you wish you can obtain? Your guide is within these pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clydesdale Books
• Release date: Dec 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215223093

Book preview

PROLOGUE

My entire life has been a challenge. I was born with Cerebral Palsy and developed pneumonia shortly after my birth. I was also put up for adoption.

The first couple I was placed with couldn’t cope with my disability; so, I was given to the George family, who later adopted me. The doctors told my mother I would never walk without an operation on my legs. They also told her I would never talk properly and I probably wouldn’t amount to anything. 

Mom never took no for an answer. She and my father took me to physical therapy, but instead of just dropping me off like other parents, they stayed and learned the techniques. 

They would then do the therapy with me at home during the week. By the time I was four years old, I had no physical signs of my disability. 

My mother’s only issue was at age three, because I still wasn’t talking. She took me to a speech therapist who told her not to worry about it.

He stated if he didn’t have the medical documents in front of him, he wouldn’t even know there was something wrong with me. 

He told her that once I started talking, there would be no way of shutting me up. I just didn’t have anything to say. The first three challenges of my life were overcome by the time I was four years old.

Next in my life? Bulimia and depression. I was twelve years old when I began binging and purging. It was my way of dealing with outside forces.

People with eating disorders have trouble with the chaos in their life and the chaos around. The only thing they can control is what goes in or out of their bodies.

Body image is only a small part of the psyche of those of us with an eating disorder. I haven’t binged and purged in many years.

I look back at pictures of me during my bulimia years and shake my head. I couldn’t believe I used to think I was fat, and no one knew I was sick.

I was diagnosed with clinical depression at twenty-one. The only medication available to me at the time was Prozac.

It worked, as it took away the sad feelings I was having, but it also took away all my other feelings. I felt as if I was a zombie. I was just going through the motions of living without the emotions that went along with it. 

But more than that, it took away my creative ability. Writing was - and is -everything to me.

I couldn’t write or even have an inkling of what I could write. Until this time, I was quite a prolific writer. 

It wasn’t long before I took myself off the medication. At that point, I thought I would rather feel sad all the time than feel nothing at all.

I also hoped my creative imagination would return. It took several years before my ability to write returned and part of me wished I could have those years back, but I know I went through that to appreciate what I have now. I am on medication now and have been for several years.[1]

Several years ago, I was watching an interview with Terry Bradshaw. Terry is a former Steeler quarterback, and he had confided to the interviewer that he had suffered from clinical depression for years. 

He didn’t know what he had until he went to the doctor. Upon the advice of his physician, Terry agreed to take medications for his mental health issues.

I thought to myself, if this six-foot three inch, 200 plus pound football great could admit he needed help, what makes me think I didn’t? Besides, by this time, I knew I couldn’t handle this constant barrage of heaviness and sadness weighing upon my chest. I needed to deal with the demons in my head.

So I went to my doctor and told her I wanted to try Paxil, which is the same medication Terry had been prescribed. She agreed to give me a prescription for it.

I couldn’t believe how wonderful it made me feel. Unlike Prozac, I could FEEL some emotion and I still had my imagination. The only thing I lost was the perpetual sadness. Now I only feel that way when I am overtired.

In 2008, I was rushed to the hospital with sharp pains on my right side. It was appendicitis and needed surgery.

When they finally operated, my appendix had ruptured, so they had to cut me open. I ended up in ICU with pulmonary edema.

I don’t remember how many tests I went through while I was there, but there were a lot.

Just over a year later, I went in for a hysterectomy. Again, I ended up in ICU with pneumonia.

This time, I was unconscious for about a week. My family physician sent me to a breathing specialist to find