What I want for myself, just like I want for everyone I love, is to be happy. Not just happy, but the kind of happy that involves the most earth-shattering love. The kind that fills your heart and ignites your soul, simply by being in the presence of amazing people.
This darkness doesn’t have what I need to survive. It does not offer any joy. It is void of vivacity. I want to get out. I want to leave here. It doesn’t allow safety or comfort or support.
The person that I truly am is someone who knows what she wants and goes after it. Who is able to find tranquility in nature. Who understands a dogs love. Who can find peace near any body of water, and remain there for the whole day. Who finds strength and power in running. Who adores her family. Who seeks play. Who exudes confidence–mind, body, and soul.
I used to be dreaming, discovering, directing and doing, all the time.
Where is she?
I’ve stepped outside of my comfort zone a lot in the past month. Last night I jumped/shook it out with (practically) strangers. I’ve cried with a new helper, I’ve practiced giving myself a hug, I’ve allowed myself to receive love and comfort where I normally would have shut it out and labeled myself as unworthy and burdensome to accept it. I’ve showed up when I really didn’t see the point. I haven’t purged at all. Simultaneously, however, I am stuck/drowning/suffocating in this depression (and anxiety because just one thing isn’t enough, of course). Consequently, this roller coaster is a ROUGH ride. I am emotionally worn way the fuck down.
The allure of peace, in anyway possible, is ever-present. I am struggling hard. But trying to just keep trusting and showing up.
I want to be wrapped in a hug constantly to get through this.