A person can only have so much control over their mental state of mind when it feels like they're in the epicentre of a tornado.
That's been what this past month has felt like. I've had to begin 'living' in two cities again, my energy and mental clarity have been hazy at best, and I've realized, life for everyone around me continues moving forward with no pause for the weight of the experience I am going through. Add onto this mix a five-day fever, and you have me feeling the worst I've felt in years, and questioning every ounce of my self-worth with no perceived end in sight.
And that's why days like today are awesome. I'm not naive enough to think I'm on 'the other side' and that days won't keep sucking, and that I won't go down the rabbit hole of self-hatred anymore, but I have become so much more aware, and grateful for, the days that feel good. The days where I love myself, the days where I can really receive love from the people around me, the days where I remember my value, and the value of what I have to offer this world. The days when I can open my laptop and feel strong enough to think and work.
Rather, I suppose it's moments like these, not days.
Waking up this morning was hard. Getting out of bed, opening my mind up to the fleury of the world and e-mails, and acknowledgements I am not apart of, and work that is being questioned, all enabling me to stare deep into that rabbit hole of self pity and a really bad day.
But then I made a choice. To call Mitch, and to lay all my insecurities bare, and to talk. To share. To ask for help, and another perspective to lift me back to life. To remind me of my worth, and what I am capable of.
I am so used to thinking I have to go this alone. That I have to be strong enough to make it out of this. But that's only part of the story. I need help. Lots of it. I needed my mom here last week to take care of me, and I need her and Mitch everyday to remind me of who I am, because when you're sick, or when you're grieving, or when you're facing a disease that scares the crap out of you, you need help.
Asking for help is an act of bravery and courage, and it comes from you. Asking for help does not make you weak, it makes you better.
I was listening to Tony Robbins and Oprah yesterday because I needed a psychological lift, and Tony talked about something that resonated really deeply for me. Post-traumatic growth. One's ability to rise from trauma - our resilience and courage manifest when we are able to stand back up on our own two feet with our loved ones lifting us up. Our ability to look back and say, 'See how powerful that helped me become?'
Hearing about post-traumatic growth made me feel strong. It gave me space to breathe, it made me remember everything I've grown through, everything I've had to face in my life, and everything that has brought me to this moment. This reprieve from my mind, this moment of clarity, and words, and worth, and work. Today, in this moment, I feel like me again. The version of me that serves myself and the world most.
Every corner of this experience is so unbearably hard. But knowing I'm going to survive, and knowing that this struggle isn't forever, is the greatest hope I can hold onto.
So here's to more and more moments of mental freedom, and the courage to ask for help to make it through the rest.