I started 2019 in a dark place.
I had a few months full of hope and light.
But somehow, I am ending 2019 in a darker place than I began.
Where did I fall?
Why am I having a hard time picking up the pieces?
How did I let this much darkness in?
When will I ever see the light again?
I stopped reading. I stopped writing. I stopped dreaming and planning.
I stopped living.
Instead, I started surviving.
I went from being motivated to hike all day every day if I could.
To barely mustering enough energy to move from the couch to the bed.
In March, my soul had a dream that so badly wanted to become reality. For a few months, every waking moment was centered on this dream.
I was going to do a 55 mile hike this past Sept.
I was living. I was learning about myself. I was excited to be alive.
But then, every single road block that could pop up out of nowhere, did.
First, I attempted a 16mi overnight hike and quickly realized how out of shape I was, and still am. I only made it 11.5.
My friends and family reminded me how awesome I was for even doing that much.
But my heart and soul were set on doing the full 16. So I secretly was crushed. And still am. I couldnt show people how truly heart broken I was.
And then the days off I requested for my 55mi hike was denied due to a PTO freeze at work.
I did not deal well with that news. Like…at all. It was the final straw in how badly I wanted to change jobs.
Side note: I am still at that job, and the PTO freeze was cancelled a couple weeks before but I had stopped preparing already.
Bc of my PTO denial, I decided to only do a 16mi overnight hike one weekend in July.
But almost like the world was against me, a war with a roommate and family made me want to disappear. And I did. With my girls. For 8hrs.
Just so happened, that this war happened the same weekend as my planned solo 16mi hike.
I had to cancel it.
So I made another date to do it in Aug, but for some reason, that also had to be cancelled.
I stopped training. I stopped hiking. But I was determined that I could get a solo in at some point before winter.
But then I fractured my ankle right before my final solo attempt this year. And then I had to focus on our youngest. And then I had a 20 day long migraine that ended with me detoxing for almost 4 days.
And here I am. Hanging on by a thread.
Dec. 9th, I hit such a low, that my inner voice was stuck on repeat – “I dont deserve to live,” “I should die,” “My family would be better off without me.”
This inner voice was so strong that it felt real. This inner voice scared me. I had never heard it before.
I would close my eyes and this inner voice would come alive.
I am not suicidal. Or so I have convinced myself over the years.
Thankfully, I went home after work and slept as much as I possibly could until 4am the next morning.
And that scary voice disappeared without a trace.
But I still feel like a shell.
1 week later, my husbands Grandfather, who was practically his father, passed away.
I have never seen my husband in such pain. He regrets so much of the past few years, not being able to have a relationship with him because of his kids and I.
I swallowed my pain. Because being strong for my husband came first in this moment.
I gave him and his brother a lecture about letting it go. To not let regrets take control.
But as much as I was saying it out loud, I cannot muster the energy to let the road blocks of this past year, go.
I feel like an utter failure as a human, as a daughter, as a woman, as a wife, and as a mother.
E? I have her figured out one minute, and then I completely forget the type of mother she needs me to be. In fact, when I am the mother she needs me to be, I am still being accused of coddling her.
I dont even dare to explain, again, that I have been the only one to go to each of her therapy appts for the best 4 years. And that I have been the only one to do any research on best techniques.
So that adds to my unspoken, hidden, pain.
B? I cannot figure out B’s anxiety issues. Meds are only kind of working. I cannot afford therapy. And now she has a nickle size open wound on the top of her scalp from picking at that spot in excess. This coming after she had a major hair cut after half her hair fell out in the shower one day bc her anxiety was thru the roof and she was pulling and twisty and tangling her hair.
I told her a million times how badass she looks with her new haircut.
Bc she does.
But my soul feels the pain her soul is experiencing.
And dont get me started on how our house is a total pig sty. All the counters are covered. Couches are covered. One load in a washing machine on average is restarted about 4 times. Dishes filling the sink. I know there is a dinner table in here somewhere.
Oh and the master shower that is leaking? At least it is a small leak.
I guess I have a lot of excuses that I am holding on to. I give them power because they give me power to live in pain.
Am I afraid of succeeding? Maybe I am not meant to succeed. Maybe I am meant to forever search for energy to move from my couch to bed.
I dont know what happened.
And I dont know how to move on from here.
Am I ready? 1 moment I am. And the next, my muscles literally ache from the idea of exerting any more energy.
Why do I feel like I am drowning on dry land?
Why do I feel like I am being buried 6 feet deep in open air?
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