gone

I wish I didn’t keep holding my breath. Wish I didn’t have to remind myself to breathe. Isn’t this supposed to be something humans don’t forget to do? Or does grief destroy you so completely you forget how to be human?

Empty.

Gone.

Advertisements

shallows

Song after song after song of loss. The only ones that make any sense. If I hear something happy I want to vomit. I’ve lost the ability to sleep without nightmares, or breathe without hyperventilating. Isn’t your body supposed to know how to breathe on its own? I keep having to remind myself not to hold my breath because somehow after 32 years, countless heartbreaks and losses, this is the moment my body has decided it forgot how to function.

It’s like a horror movie, a nightmare, that I can’t wake up from.

Take my hands and keep them busy again.

broken

I feel so empty.

And when I do feel, it’s only pain, so sharp that my heart skips a beat and it takes everything to remember to breathe.

If I think too much about anything beyond reminding myself how to breathe, I can’t stop crying.

How is it possible I have any more tears to shed? How is it possible that I cannot be loved? By anyone. Over and over again.

I want to go back in time and take back every embrace, every laugh, everything.

I am destroyed. Broken.

fears

I’ve overthought most everything in my life, and confused intuition with logic and vice versa. I try not to compare my life to anyone else’s because it’s my journey and mine alone. I try, and sometimes I fail. But perhaps it isn’t a failure, it’s simply another step along the way, another part of the process. When words fail, fears rise, and emotions spill, how do we not get lost?

I’ve been my own worst enemy, my own harshest critic. Anything unkind someone has said to me, I promise I’ve already thought it and waged a war in my head over it. What was wrong with me for not doing The Things that other people were doing. The doubt over whether a job was right, a move was right, a word was right. I used to think my life and my journey had to go a certain way because it was what I mapped out at the age of 16, and at 25 when it all fell apart, I spent the next three years fighting it. Then two years were spent accepting myself. The last two have been learning how to let people in, and that it’s okay to ask for help. I’ve learned that just because I have a doubt, it doesn’t mean it’s the end all be all of the situation. It’s simply a marker.

My journey is my own in this moment and this space, and I am grateful for the people around me who have shared their wisdom, their struggles and their triumphs to help me navigate all of the fear, all of the doubt. The people who have listened to me and encouraged me as I took baby steps to create the life I wanted, and shown me that I was alright and whole, all along.

Value can be found when you stop comparing your marathon to someone else’s (or your own past journeys). How do you give, help, and care for others? How do they support you? If they do it with care, even when its messy and even when they stumble, there is value in that. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. You are whole. You are worth it.

soul

Obligations to others, to ourselves. How to determine which takes precedence? If you don’t take care of your soul, you won’t truly be able to be there for others, but how much is too much for you or others?

There is a melancholy that envelopes me every year as I watch the trees bloom and sprout leaves. A fear as I trade my warm winter armor for something more comfortable, but more physically vulnerable. Obligations to myself or to others change with the seasons.

Trade my armor for melancholy and watch the beauty of life unfold. The joy is sometimes too much to bear.

slow

This time of the year we are always confronted with people so stressed out and angry about the acquisition and consumption of material possessions that they seem to lose sight of what really matters. “It’s the holiday season” people say. I wasn’t aware that greed and animosity was a holiday. Wasn’t aware that you had to stress yourself out so bad to avoid judgment of petty assholes who equate care and love with material crap. If these people are in your life, that’s their problem, not yours.

This morning while driving to work, I was increasingly aware of the stressful experience that is commuting during December. People honking at you for merging lanes in a merging area, or honking to turn right and pedestrians be damned. Like, yes sir, your need to get Somewhere Important supersedes the need for the disabled elderly man crossing the street. Sure.

Stop hurrying. Stop beating yourself up for not doing enough. You’re doing just fine. Tell the people in your life that you love them or that you care about them. Thank them for something mundane. If you’re into gift giving, then give them something small and meaningful. It isn’t about the money, it’s about the time you want to spend with them, the short time we have on this amazing planet.

Life is too short to forget what’s really important.

Grounded

Blogging from the back of an Uber. That’s painfully 2018.

The state of things is scary right now. Every time I wait for the news to load, the dread rises: am I going to see one more horrible story? More death, more sadness, more hate? With every passing day and every passing headline, I try to simply remind myself how lucky I am despite circumstances that leave me feeling overwhelmed.

“I am grateful for…” has become my mantra to keep afloat amidst the insanity and thoughtless hate and violence. I feel guilty for being lucky, for being safe. For the privilege of my existence.

How to keep grounded and keep my faith in humanity and the universe and the unknown when there is so much groundlessness outside my front door?

Grounded

Blogging from the back of an Uber. That’s painfully 2018.

The state of things is scary right now. Every time I wait for the news to load, the dread rises- am I going to see one more horrible story? More death, more sadness, more hate? With every passing day and every passing headline, I try to simply remind myself how lucky I am despite circumstances that leave me feeling overwhelmed.

“I am grateful for…” has become my mantra to keep afloat amidst the insanity and thoughtless hate and violence. I feel guilty for being lucky, for being safe. For the privilege of my existence.

How to keep grounded and keep my faith in humanity and the universe and the unknown when there is so much groundlessness outside my front door?