As the seasons change winter into spring, so do we also. I am in flux. Sifting through the wreckage learning what I can and cannot hold. Somedays I feel stronger than the day before, somedays I do not. The only things that feel good are sunshine and writing, and long walks at the ocean. Blessed am I to live so near the ocean.
Erika says to be patient with myself, to give myself permission to not be okay, to do what I can rather than what I used to be able to do. Find a new normal. It’s harder than it sounds and it sounds horrible. Small things, she says, become big things.
I’ve been wanting to bypass survival to get to thriving. But not only can I not, I quite literally am not. Eating is still hard. Sleeping still requires medicine. Living takes every ounce of energy I have. I get to the end of each day hanging on by a fingernail. And so maybe that’s me right now.
I keep getting told I’m brave I’m strong I’m courageous, I don’t feel it. I want to. Perhaps I just have to trust that eventually I will. I hope I do.