I am so excited to share this guest post by Amy Oestreicher. She is an amazing human being who embodies a superhero spirit. She THRIVES despite everything she has experienced. I hope you find her as inspiring as I do.
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| "Follow Your Bliss" by Amy Oestreicher |
I am, and have always been hungry. When I was a child, I was
audaciously, passionately hungry for life, and theatre was my
nourishment. I had one goal: Broadway or bust. As a performer, I was
hungry to make a difference in the world. What attracted me to the stage
initially was the ability to give to the audience, to offer something
of myself, to make an impact on people. I was hungry to matter, to make
my mark. My days were spent making hammy home movies, begging my parents
for an agent as soon as I found out what one was, and dragging them to
the city for countless auditions. I was hungry for my future – I strived
for the best possible grades I could, applied to too many colleges, and
really believed in the endless possibilities that my life could hold
for me. I was raised believing that if I set clear goals for myself,
with a bit of hard work and strategy, they were achievable. – I could
experience life to the fullest and reap what it had to offer me with a
bit of perseverance.
I experienced 18 years of this
ravenous, insatiable hunger. But weeks before graduation, I was
confronted with a new, unfamiliar, frightening type of hunger. Having
woken from my coma, I have a fuzzy memory of a doctor standing above me,
telling me I had no stomach anymore, I could not eat or drink now, and
he had no clue if or when I’d ever be able to again. And suddenly my
hunger ran deep – a helplessness in a world of uncertainty where
childhood dreams and goals were replaced with the drive to simply
survive. I was hungry for control of my life again, hungry for answers.
There
was no “road map” to recovery for me, just the monotony and angst of
passing each day wondering when I’d ever be able to eat or even swallow a
single ice cube. Because I had no control or crystal ball, this was
merely a wish rather than a goal. Life became scary, surreal – I could
pick up food, smell it, feel it warm in my hands, but was forbidden to
put it in my mouth, knowing that this old, familiar friend was now
poison to my now-alien body, covered in bags, tubes, and adhesives. I
felt stuck in a routine that was out of my control, a pawn in a
dangerous game. My new goal: getting through.
I then made
a promise to myself – as long as I was going to be hungry, I wanted to
keep my old hunger alive too by setting tiny goals for myself – like
trying to laugh once a day. These various mini-goals I set under a
larger umbrella of the bigger goal I’d manifest each day, more like a
desire that with enough dedication and faith would eventually come true:
To thrive rather than just survive. I refused to feel like a sick
hospital patient tied up with tubes, plugged in like a lamp, bags and
drains leaking everywhere. Even though this was my physical reality, I
fought against the feeling that I was weak or was less than person who
could walk, live, and eat freely. Not being able to sing, or leap across
a stage made me feel like I wasn’t myself anymore. So I did anything I
could to reclaim my identity. Hungry for myself and for life, which once
held endless wonders for me, I set a goal for myself to make a daily
gratitude list, even in the bleakest of circumstances.
With
an intense desire to let the world know that I was still eager to make
that imprint on the world, I couldn’t allow myself to listen to doctors
who thought I was too weak to do anything but lie in bed. A month after
being discharged from the ICU, I landed the lead role in the musical
OLIVER! – tubes, bags, starving, and parched. I was so hungry for my
strength back that I put myself through my own physical therapy every
day, and ended up leaping across the stage in CATS. I still wanted to
make an impact on my community by teaching nursery school, learning
karate, and working on a cabaret act.
With a new goal of
fearlessness, I didn’t let my new restrictions extinguish my passions.
Rather than avoid food, I became obsessed with it and learned how to
cook, starting a food blog and making Thanksgiving dinner for 30 guests,
still not able to eat a morsel. I played with my hunger by creating a
chocolate company, entertaining myself for hours making edible creations
for the business I had set up out of sheer starvation.
Eventually,
I picked up a paintbrush…and my world changed. I found a way to
express things that were too complicated, painful and overwhelming to
put into words. The next year, I put hundreds of mixed media and
acrylic creations in an art show, displaying work that expressed
everything I’ve been through throughout these seven years. I didn’t
expect a turnout, but was surprised by hundreds of guests who came to
see what I had done all of these years, to know that I hadn’t just got
lost in the woodwork. I was still alive, still vital.
I
was unexpectedly betrayed by my own body, tested, dehumanized, and put
back together, but differently, like a mosaic. Throughout the struggles,
I have always kept that spark of hope in the back of my throat, that
I’d be able to share my story, that I have survived this trauma for a
reason: to reach out to the world, like I once did as a performer for
something more than entertainment. After this detour, I still just want
to give to the world, and now I can in a deeper sense. Now I know that
my role in life is still to be that same passionate performer I once
aspired to as a child, but now with the even greater gift of a story to
tell.
At 28, I still hunger to my mark on the world,
perform, finish college, and not let nine years of medical complications
and frustrations separate me from my dream of education, connection,
and spiritual fulfillment. I will still get there, perhaps by different
means, and even a different end. Now with satisfaction in my body, real
nourishment flowing through me, and true appreciation of little daily
blessings, anything is possible. Hunger has taught me so much and will
always be my intimate companion as I continue to crave inspiration, my
mark on the world, and everything life can offer me. Life has taught me
that goals aren’t always accomplished…which can be a blessing in
disguise. Thank you hunger, thank you life, for giving the opportunity
to discover new goals I didn’t realize I could achieve or even had
wanted in the first place. You have given my life unexpected meaning by
breaking the bonds of expectation.
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Amy Oestreicher is a 28 year old actress,
musician, teacher, composer, dancer, writer, artist, yogi, foodie, and general
lover of life. Surviving and thriving through a coma, 27 surgeries and
other trauma has inspired Amy to share her story with the world through her
passionate desire to create and help others. Piecing her life together
after her initial dreams of performing musical theatre took on a beautiful
detour into broader horizons. Amy has written, directed and starred in a
one woman musical about her life, Gutless & Grateful, has flourished as a
mixed media and acrylic artist, with her art in multiple galleries and mounting
dozens of solo art shows, and continues to share her story through her art,
music, theatre and writings.
