I have a lot to be grateful for. I have many blessings and I am not blind to them. I am humbled and thankful for these very things.
I want to acknowledge that it is OKAY to acknowledge the hard in your life, your struggles, your pain, your hurt. It does not make you any less grateful for the blessings you have. We would be ignorant to stuff, ignore, and invalidate our daily demons and trials.
That’s what I am going to do. I’m going to acknowledge my hard. My plate is full. It is overflowing. Who am I kidding…the damn plate broke and I’m trying to carry my responsibilities, feelings, and expectations with a soggy paper towel.
And within this, I have lost my center. My cup is empty. I have nothing left to give. And I feel myself spiraling. I haven’t found a time to rest, take a break, recharge. Every. Dang. Day. is a battle.
I have tried so hard to hold it all together, to present a façade that I am okay, to please those around me and meet my responsibilities and it’s all crashing down around me in slow motion.
I’m not using my tools. I haven’t written in over a month. I am not meditating. I am not taking me time. I am not speaking my truth. And that is the one that is taking the biggest toll. Swallowing my voice. And then when I do speak it, it either comes out like a volcanic eruption or if I am able to articulate it well, I can’t move past the fact that my truth may not be received or heard by who I want to hear it. And instead of settling into the fact that I spoke my truth well and I have no control of how it is received, I become enraged that it isn’t heard.
Because at the heart of it all, I don’t love and respect myself enough to validate my words. I need it from others. And that is double edged sword. I am full of resent that I am not understood AND I am ashamed that I can’t give that to myself.
How long does this take? I’m exhausted. I am weary. My soul is just plain tired. I have been trying to better myself through therapy for 3 years now. I thought this would get easier. But here I am, living life, just feeling the shit get piled on higher and higher. How much can one person take, God? What is your grand plan?
Honestly, it’s amusing that I began due to the grief of losing my husband and that was the easy part. Let me clarify, managing my grief of losing Jake was NOT easy and does NOT invalidate the love I have for him. I am simply trying to emphasize the magnitude of self work I needed to do within myself. It was so desperately needed and so gravely deep that it made grief seem small in comparison. Because here’s the thing. Losing Jake was something out of my control and something that happened to me. Working through my demons, shame, scars, past traumas, and armor I had collected and built for 30 plus years, is pretty damn personal.
You say strong, I see no other choice.
You say resilient, I see no other way this shit is getting done if I don’t do it.
You say I’m helping, I see the cost of what it is doing to me inside.
You say I’m a great mother, I see the daily struggles in the trenches and hear the professionals baffled answers leaving me with nothing really tangible to do, crying myself to sleep at night as I replay all they ways I let my triggers and issues override my parenting.
I haven’t wanted to write. I haven’t wanted to talk. I haven’t wanted to vent. Because if I even let an ounce of this chaos inside I am feeling out, I may not be able to stop it all from pouring out.
I am literally walking around locked and loaded.
I know I can’t keep it in forever.
But can I pick up the pieces on my own if I let myself fall apart again?
That would mean I would have to trust myself with making sure I am okay, loving myself through the mess, and believing in myself to push onward. And it is hard for me to trust me. To believe in me. To love me…
I want to. And I know I will feel a freedom like no other when I can. But how do I get there and am I close?