My writing has fallen off quite a bit here. It’s because I lost my voice. I didn’t know what I wanted to talk about and I didn’t know how to talk about what I was feeling. Here it is in a nutshell: I’ve been stressed, physically exhausted, and largely depressed.
My body is still working on recovering from disease and growing a human. Add to that the demands of a job that I (mostly) love, and I wind up tired and depleted. I love my clients and taking care of them can be very hard. It is taxing and I’ve definitely felt the weight of work lately.
I’ve also opened a new office in another city. I travel to and from, usually spending about three hours in the car round-trip. I feel my energy slipping away from me as I take care of the people that depend on me: my clients, my employees, my children. At the end of the day there just hasn’t been much left and I’m feeling the results of the constant scrape at the bottom of the barrel.
I could be really harsh here and say that this is all my fault. These are all decisions I’ve made and I’ve had nothing but loving support from my family. I’m suffering under choices I have made. Yes. Absolutely. But still, in the end, I am suffering.
There is a lesson to learn again amid all of this: I have to learn to take care.
I spent so much time forging strength in the fire that was my life for over two years that I forgot to smooth out the edges. If I came under another attack today, I have no doubt I would have the resilience to survive. My bones are made of steel. I am as steady as boulder.
But when it comes to the gentle, inward work of taking care, I have missed the mark completely. I have pushed harder and harder to make things come together. I have been harsh and unkind to myself. I have set my expectations at perfection. I haven’t made room for healing.
When I was sick, the foundation of my soul crumbled. Everything I was, everything I had, everything I knew fell apart. I was able to desperately and temporarily hold it all together, but the foundation is still weak. I haven’t lovingly put myself back together. I am still broken, not because of cancer, but because of the wild unwinding that came alongside it.
I am so lucky though. I am fortunate because I have discovered this about myself. I know I need to heal. I know I need to take care.
And so it will be. I have something to share again because I am seeking out the repair. It is scary to admit that I am struggling, I have so enjoyed fooling even myself into the illusion that I was so strong. But maybe I still am. It is with incredible strength and fortitude that I set out on this journey, and that I share it here. Perhaps this part of my journey is even more relatable, even more accessible.
I have work to do, and I will do it. I am committed to gently loving and caring for myself so that I can become the person I was born to be. It is a commitment I make to myself and to the universe because I owe both the obligation to be the best version of myself possible.
Give ‘Em Hell