A letter to myself

Dear self,

Right now, you are hurting. You feel like there is a deep, deep hole, in the middle of your chest–and you are unable to stitch it closed.

You want to find others to fill that hole for you. Others who will fill it with connection, and love, and hugs. Others who will know you and hear you and see you.

Dependence.

It’s been no secret that I rely heavily on my therapist. It’s true…

I do. 

Throughout the last year, she has absolutely been my rock. The one person who I could always rely on…who I could talk to about anything…who I could always feel safe around. 

What stands in my way?

Healing is a constant journey–one that has felt anything but easy for me.

Since the middle of January, I have been struggling. Anytime I struggle, I get filled with frustration, shame, embarrassment, and anger–at myself.

Over and over and over again, I have asked myself: Why is it so hard to let some of this go? Why am I so stuck in this struggle?

The labyrinth of life

About a week ago, I journeyed through my church’s labyrinth. The idea of walking this path, with intention–with pause–was intriguing.

…But it was also slightly scary.

As I began to walk the path, I tried to focus on my breathing. In….and out. In….and out. 

Digging Deep

What a weekend it has been.

…I felt like I was barely going to make it. The sense of loneliness, the sadness, the anxiety, and the injustice hit me like a train Thursday and Friday, and assaulted my senses. I couldn’t shake it off. I needed to vent it–find support, in the way I wanted it–before I exploded all over the place.

The problem? I couldn’t find the support. I tried, in my way. But it didn’t happen. I started drowning.

Desperation

Right now I am desperate.

And pissed.

At everyone. At myself. At my life.

What do I need?

Struggling is my new norm. It isn’t getting better.

I’m not okay and it is messy and I do feel broken.

So…what do I need?

When the sun sets, darkness falls.

Nights are so hard.

I don’t know what it is. There is something about the end of my days that leaves me so…empty. Wanting.

Alone.

Right now, I am feeling so full of emotion. So full I need to dump it all out, or I risk exploding.

Tripping over triggers

I feel like I’ve been walking around with an open wound lately. It takes so little to trigger my emotions–the anxiety, the panic, the melancholy and depression.

I feel like my body is a messenger–trying to tell me something that I can’t quite seem to pick up. The thoughts roll through my head, the feelings flow, and the anxiety bubbles up.

But what is at the center? What is the cause?