This picture was taken after a spiritual run through the botanical gardens. It was a beautiful afternoon run 🏃🏼♀️, I ended it feeling such peace. I came home and showered 🧼, and began making dinner for the kids and their dad. I had plans last night, and it was his night to put them to bed. But when they all came home, the normalcy of the moment overwhelmed me.
The pain sank in.
This is not normal.
It never will be again.
I had to to get out right then, I couldn’t breathe from the weight of this loss.
I drove around looking for whatever food sounded good, hungry but not. I started crying. I started breaking. I reached out...half-ass to others. Refusing to tell anyone how NOT ok I was. “Being strong” just as I had been instructed. I always believed that to be strong 💪🏼 you had to do it alone. It was the shining example I saw my entire life. No matter that clearly it never worked out well for anyone that way, my brain 🧠 had me convinced.
I was alone.
And since I was alone...I should go further away to eat. So I did. Except I wasn’t really looking for food. By the time I got there I had convinced myself I had enough cash for food and a bottle of wine 🍷 and absolutely no one would know.
Life is fucking hard.
And it sucks.
Last night I didn’t drink, because my phone rang right when I parked. Because people love me and texted me non-stop. Because I made it to my meeting and let people chase me down and comfort me. Because I stopped ‘being strong,’ and allowed myself to be human.
You don’t have to be strong, you can hurt. You can cry. You can want and seek comfort. Not everyone can give that, but there are so many more who can. I’m alive and sober right now because I didn’t do it alone. I’m not alone. You are not alone. ❤️🤗
All of this happened AFTER I wrote about letting go of ridiculous expectations, perhaps I should go read my own stuff again. 🤔