This past year has been likely the hardest one I’ve had to endure in my 30 years of life. While I am beyond blessed that it wasn’t hard because I lost a child or endured a horrific life event, the dark emotions I had were hard on me.
A part of my inner struggle has been, “Am I allowed to feel these emotions without negating the painful journey someone else is on?” And while I don’t know the actual answer to that pressing question, I have arrived at the decision that it is indeed fair for people to feel/experience/share their struggles in a respectful and sensitive manner. So here we go, the next few posts will be me trying to be respectful and sensitive as I hash out the last 12 months (way longer if we are being honest here) of struggles out on paper. Please know that I am so far from perfect. I am a hot mess. I try to be kind and am not passing judgement or trying to make light of others struggles, however, as a simple person I lack the ability to articulate the correct words that portrays this.
A few months ago I stopped and realized that I am the WORST version of myself. That is saying A LOT! Even at my best, I am not enough (we will come around to this statement eventually). I am a type A, a control freak, mental load over load momma on a mission. Many days, you don’t want to get in my way. How did I get here? How am I such a horrible person? Why is anxiety and depression suddenly effecting me in such a way that I spend more time in bed than anywhere else?
After much searching, taking a step back and analyzing life, lots of painful self discoveries and making some changes. Here we are, feeling much better than I have in a long time. I still have crap to figure out, but healing is a process.