The best and the worst.

  I cried myself to sleep that night.  I lay on that single size mattress that wasn’t my own and cried for mess I had made, for the bigger mess that was coming, and out of sheer exhaustion.
  My arms felt heavy from the weight they had carried all day.  My legs were sore from all the steps they had climbed that day.  And my face hurt from trying so hard to put on a brave face on all day when I was scared.
That day I removed the last thread holding my family together.  I took my children away from a life they loved, cut off ties and hurt people in the process, created a vast hole where before there was something.
I no longer had a bed of my own.  I didn’t have beds for my children.  I couldn’t make them dinner that night even if I wanted to.  I was surrounded by boxes that weren’t my own.  The only space for me to lay my head down that night was on the floor in a kitchen.  I lay on that mattress that wasn’t my own, staring up at a ceiling that wasn’t familiar to me, and cried for the place I was in, the mess I had created, for everything I had lost, for everything I had failed.
It was the worst night of my life.
In the morning, the sun came in unfiltered through the kitchen window and filled the room with light.
I had slept through the night for the first time in months.  Maybe even years.  I woke and just lay watching the light move across the walls that were starting to feel a bit more familiar to me.  I did not wake with the usual  jolt of dread that left my heart pounding till after my morning coffee.  I remember feeling the smile on my face that needed no forcing, that appeared out of desire and seeing the light.
The boxes that had threatened to become an avalanche of burden the night before seemed smaller that morning, and easily done away with.  The pain of the night before had dissipated with the morning sun, and left a scrubbed clean version of my new world.  My mind was more calm and clear that it had been in months.  I knew I had made the right decision.
  It was the best morning of my life.
  Both perspectives are important to me.  In one night I saw the limits of my strength pushed and how easily it could be renewed.  The worst and best happened for me at the same time that night, and my perspective was changed.  It was OK to trust myself.

Advertisements

Push

screenshot-2016-12-30-at-10-56-30-am

Dear 2017,

My word this year is ‘Push’.  You will hear this single word when you try to slow me down.  I will push back if you try to trip me up.  I will push to stand up if you try to knock down.  I will push a little harder if I feel I am out of fight.

I.  Will.  Push.

I’ve worked hard the last two years.  2015 was my doorway.  2016 brought me beauty.  I have put so many things in place.  2017 will be when I will push to cross off the big items from my list.  It will be the year I push the boundaries.  It will be the year I push myself to overcome challenges.  It will be my year to push.