I hung up the phone, laid my head down and cried—hard. Every difficulty, every stumble in the past twelve months spilled out and landed in a messy puddle. The tiny fracture weaving its way through my heart finally reached its destination, breaking it into tiny, uneven pieces. The eggshells I continuously balanced on carrying everything on my shoulders were crushed into a fine powder from the weight. The stuffing had finally come out as my threads came undone. My skin and bones were jelly. All of this was entirely too much. If it all ended in a quick flick of the light switch, spilling me into complete and utter darkness that would have been okay. I was not okay.
Young Gun happened to catch me in this pitiful moment of despair and tried rescuing me, but instead, I sucked up the despair quickly and replaced it with anger. Seething, violent, red-hot anger. I suddenly felt like I was going to burst into flames. It was deeply rooted from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. A small voice in my head tried dousing the flames, whispering “You are not okay” but I barely heard it. My skin burned and sweat beaded my forehead. My hands itched to punch, and so I did. My throat exploded in screams and grunts. The anger bubbled and popped under the surface. I was not okay.
I eventually calmed down, and by eventually I mean a week later. Just now, I am beginning to recognize the lack of grounding. Had I been grounded previously, my reaction would have been different. The physical ache would have felt different. The words would have tasted different. No one and their shenanigans should get me to a place of instability, but over this year I have felt its slow boil and refused to acknowledge it. All it took for the pot to boil over was one more senseless thing.
Sure, I can poke fun at Young Gun and I forgetting to hang damp pants or putting on underwear backward, but there are serious consequences to not taking care of myself. I have been pushing it aside consistently and it finally was too much. The levies finally broke. And so, here I am exhausted and lost after the water receded and the storm subsided. I have been in the belly of this beast for long enough. I have got to find a way out…a way to okay.
The stress is taking a physical toll and it is time for me to put it all down and leave it all be. I have to take it one step at a time. I have to go back to the practices that made me well. I have to remind myself which battles are worth the fight and which people can %#@! off. I can’t be everything to everybody and be nothing to myself. If I want to keep my head, I have to keep reminding myself:
Everything will be okay. I will be okay.