sending love

how many people have wished for a lobotomy? she remembers that.

She remembers wishing she could be hospitalized so she could somehow get a break from the emotional labour of it all. She wanted to be medicated and be cared for.

The good news is that today’s moods will never be that bad. She knows she can do anything.

She knows that these days will pass.

She used to hear confirmation she was in a tough spot when she’d tune into her self talk and hear the internal voice say, ‘I’m dying’ or ‘I hate myself’ or ‘I can’t do this’. She used to hear that voice and feel the matched painful sensations and she’d keep marching forward. She would liken it to slogging through a quagmire of thick, arduous, quick-sandy muck. Somehow convincing herself to take one more step, then one more, and another.

She reflects on all of this to mark from where she’s come. To illustrate that it’s possible. and to highlight for herself that she’s made some distance past some genuinely tough times. That today will never be that bad.

Today. Today she feels heavy. She feels the weight of sadness and grief. Missing those no longer in her life and sending them love. The lure of old habits of replaying conversations and dissecting to find wrongness is tempting but no longer necessary. That leaves space for old chemistry. The feeling of the discomfort of insecurity, the fear of judgment, the fear of too muchness and not enoughness both.

She will do the things. The expressions of self love. The cold showers. The writing. The cleaning. The movement. The play.

She will one foot in front of the other till each next moment.

She will be still and align with the home in her heart and connect with the only love she needs.