Welp… the streak ended. And suprisingly, I’m not at all mad about it. It has been a rough couple of weeks. There were many days where I thought about writing again, but there was nothing that I could write without tears.
First road bump came when the anniversary of our first miscarriage came. The Monday before, I was in good spirits for the most part. But as the week went on, all I could do was live in the past and remember all the feelings I felt the year before. The denial, the hope, the disappointment, the confusion, the heartbreak, the isolation, the anger. I felt it all as though I was experiencing it for the first time. I shut down. It was honestly just too much for me to bear. I turned off my phone and zoned out as much as I could.
I didn’t want to get stuck there but I also had no words to share that would make any of it better. I was tired of identifying all that I was feeling and I didn’t want to tell anyone how I felt because I didn’t have the emotional capacity to “hold it together”. Looking back, I can say I didn’t need to “be on”, I didn’t have to pretend that it was not eating me inside. So after a few days I pulled up my boot straps and started to live half-heartedly. I was there but my heart and soul was lost.
Even writing this now, I fight the tears. So much good has happened these past few months and yet I can still break down in a moment’s notice. I am fragile. I don’t know what will trigger the feelings and what won’t. But everyday I am learning to show up. It’s difficult. Most days I don’t want to. And most days I show up for someone else, rather than my own life. It’s easier that way. It’s easier to pour my heart to serving someone else, then it is to allow someone in long enough to fill my cup.
Last week, I had such an amazing opportunity to share my story to 700 women! It was a wild ride leading up to it but I learned so much about myself going through the process of preparing what I wanted to share.
Thankfully, I had scheduled a therapy appointment the day before which completely gave me a different perspective of where I was versus where I thought I was. I wanted to believe I had my life figured out, I found God and all of sudden I never felt another pain or disappointment or hurt. But the reality is, I’m still a work in progress. Yes I have a strong foundation in what God has for me, but there is still a TON of healing that I still want/need to work through.
I don’t know if there will be a writing streak this time around, but I feel like I am exactly where I need to be.
Perfectly imperfect.