Feb 2021
It's been really quiet in my space...
The cat does his best.
I haven't been telling people the real heavy stuff.
Cause I don't want to. And I don't have to. And it never. ******. Helps.
But when I hear the heavy of others, somes I end up bawling until I can't breathe... and yeah, it's getting it out, but it comes back... so, right now? I choose to fight through it.
I choose to appreciate the space I have to cry until I can't breathe.
I choose to appreciate the fact that nobody sees me when I don't get out of bed well, or for days, or if I whimper all the hours between it.
I am appreciative that I can fall apart in this quietness for a while.
Because I have been all alone... for most of this entire pandemic.
I appreciate that nobody has seen my breakdowns.
My questions.
I am trying to appreciate this time of grieving.
Because who else could love this level of breakdown?
I never had anyone before who could comfortably sit through this with me.
Not even me.
Until now.
Now I love my breakdown, because nobody else could.
She doesn't need to be attended to. She doesnt want to be saved from the tower anymore.
She wants to sit here, and love herself for crying.
Crying without having to he seen.
Crying without having to be heard.
Crying is the absolute most badass thing I can do with this.
Take the rage, the whoa, self-pity, fear of fractalizaton and terror of the unknown.
I got up to here... having major symptoms of chiari formation, theough multiple sockets being subluxed and dislocated (fixing them myself, too)... waking up three mornings in a row... body releasing on itself and nobody around to clean up my messes and the cats death throws but myself.
I am here for these babies.
Because who else could see?
We aren't against anyone, just for ourselves.
But self advocacy is hard when you've allowed yourself to tell you you are weak, lesser, not equal to... everyone around you.
Allowing my needs to fade and go unseen so I wasn't a burden on anyone else... cause I was too much of a burden to myself.
This is my Ode to Self-Love
I am a badass warrior.
Because nobody could see nor save me from a tower of my own creation.
And when the skies cracked and the cat began to falter it was like pathateic fallacy.
I get back off the wall when I stumble into it.
I laugh when my body spasms and something falls cause it has to be funny.
When the pressures of the world make me crumble, I keep getting back up... not because of any reason other than.. nobody else can or would.
My ode to self love is a mark of a warrior because I never felt safe enough to share my issues cause sometimes I could make even therapists cry...
About 5-6 years ago I realized I was teaching the teachers... talking profession with the professionals and surprising so many people.
I wanted to understand everything and everyone so I could understand why I was so weird.
Turns out my health struggles I joked were like a bill Murray sighting, "Nobody will ever believe you."
So I had to see, believe in, and take care of myself (as much as possible).
My ode to self love.
The hardest one to love.
The toughest love.
Cause it showed me the easy way was rarely the best way.
That suffering merely means to undergo.
And that we are all playing g the game of life.
There are no manuals.
There's no walkthroughs.
There is no 'you', only me, we, us everything and nothing and ... we are all in this together.
And the only thing I can ever ask another is that they take care of their circus of cells in the way that only they know, and I am cheerleading supporting rooting for and fighting for the inter child inside of everyone around me.
Cause you give me life.
You give me strength.
You give me hope.
You give me love.
You give me faith.
You give me inspiration to keep going on.
You allowed me to see me past the circus of cells and beyond.
And I can't wait for your ode to self, too.
I love you.
Thank you.
Who else could fight the warrior's battle? Only you ♡
The cat does his best.
I haven't been telling people the real heavy stuff.
Cause I don't want to. And I don't have to. And it never. ******. Helps.
But when I hear the heavy of others, somes I end up bawling until I can't breathe... and yeah, it's getting it out, but it comes back... so, right now? I choose to fight through it.
I choose to appreciate the space I have to cry until I can't breathe.
I choose to appreciate the fact that nobody sees me when I don't get out of bed well, or for days, or if I whimper all the hours between it.
I am appreciative that I can fall apart in this quietness for a while.
Because I have been all alone... for most of this entire pandemic.
I appreciate that nobody has seen my breakdowns.
My questions.
I am trying to appreciate this time of grieving.
Because who else could love this level of breakdown?
I never had anyone before who could comfortably sit through this with me.
Not even me.
Until now.
Now I love my breakdown, because nobody else could.
She doesn't need to be attended to. She doesnt want to be saved from the tower anymore.
She wants to sit here, and love herself for crying.
Crying without having to he seen.
Crying without having to be heard.
Crying is the absolute most badass thing I can do with this.
Take the rage, the whoa, self-pity, fear of fractalizaton and terror of the unknown.
I got up to here... having major symptoms of chiari formation, theough multiple sockets being subluxed and dislocated (fixing them myself, too)... waking up three mornings in a row... body releasing on itself and nobody around to clean up my messes and the cats death throws but myself.
I am here for these babies.
Because who else could see?
We aren't against anyone, just for ourselves.
But self advocacy is hard when you've allowed yourself to tell you you are weak, lesser, not equal to... everyone around you.
Allowing my needs to fade and go unseen so I wasn't a burden on anyone else... cause I was too much of a burden to myself.
This is my Ode to Self-Love
I am a badass warrior.
Because nobody could see nor save me from a tower of my own creation.
And when the skies cracked and the cat began to falter it was like pathateic fallacy.
I get back off the wall when I stumble into it.
I laugh when my body spasms and something falls cause it has to be funny.
When the pressures of the world make me crumble, I keep getting back up... not because of any reason other than.. nobody else can or would.
My ode to self love is a mark of a warrior because I never felt safe enough to share my issues cause sometimes I could make even therapists cry...
About 5-6 years ago I realized I was teaching the teachers... talking profession with the professionals and surprising so many people.
I wanted to understand everything and everyone so I could understand why I was so weird.
Turns out my health struggles I joked were like a bill Murray sighting, "Nobody will ever believe you."
So I had to see, believe in, and take care of myself (as much as possible).
My ode to self love.
The hardest one to love.
The toughest love.
Cause it showed me the easy way was rarely the best way.
That suffering merely means to undergo.
And that we are all playing g the game of life.
There are no manuals.
There's no walkthroughs.
There is no 'you', only me, we, us everything and nothing and ... we are all in this together.
And the only thing I can ever ask another is that they take care of their circus of cells in the way that only they know, and I am cheerleading supporting rooting for and fighting for the inter child inside of everyone around me.
Cause you give me life.
You give me strength.
You give me hope.
You give me love.
You give me faith.
You give me inspiration to keep going on.
You allowed me to see me past the circus of cells and beyond.
And I can't wait for your ode to self, too.
I love you.
Thank you.
Who else could fight the warrior's battle? Only you ♡
