This is what I’ve discovered over trying to get to the bottom of my ongoing tiredness… (I’ve talked about it here and here.) When you want answers and they’re not right in front of you sometimes it requires a bit of digging. Sometimes it requires honesty. I’ve learned this comes after crying at crappy songs on the radio and feeling like I used to when I had a baby and I was in that newborn stupor, that will I ever feel normal again how can a baby have that much power over me kind of fog. It comes after simultaneously talking and crying to a friend who is nice enough to respond when you can barely make sense of what you’re saying through strange animal like sounds coming out of your mouth. It comes after talking to a few friends who aim their words carefully which make me feel found and I didn’t know I needed finding. Honesty. Who knew?
For those of you that know me well you’ll understand it when I say that I like reasons. I like rationale for how I’m feeling. I can feel just about anything and I’m okay with my many feelings as long as there is a reason. What has been killing me is that I couldn’t find the root of my problem. Tears keep leaking from my eyes and I don’t know why. Maybe I’ve gone the way of mental illness. Maybe I’m depressed. I’m not saying that too lightly. I know depression is serious and real. I have a few loved ones in my life that battle clinical depression and disorders beyond that. I get it. But, I had seen a therapist who said I wasn’t depressed. Remember how he said I should see a life coach? Remember the disdain from me that went along with that? A little bit of come on and a lot of puh-leeze. I’m not really against life coaches as much as I think it’s become the fallback career for many people like washed up celebrities suddenly find their gift for making handbags. I know there are good life coaches out there and, really, who am I to judge? I’ve been a motivational speaker and you know how irritating and full of themselves they can be with their ‘you can do anything’ ways. I digress. I thought if I explore enough I can determine what the hell is going on with me. And if not. Holy hell. I’m in trouble.
I’ve been talking and crying and thinking and talking and crying. I’ve been having coffee with Scott in the mornings words pouring out while getting the kids ready for school wiping my eyes. I’ve been laying it all bare, laying down my feelings, my thoughts, the deep down. The deep down stuff you don’t get to look at too often. The stuff we put a lid on and say no way to. I am doing just fine in my blissful ignorance. I am willfully burying my feelings. The equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and shouting lalalalalalala so I can shut out the sound around me.
I’ve been uncovering, wading through to get to the bottom. I’m getting honest and in that I’m refueling. It doesn’t matter if what emerges is right or wrong, bad or good they are my feelings, my raw, you’ve got to be kidding me, mixed up nerve endings. Even if I don’t know what happens next, even if I don’t have a master plan or even a plan b I have honesty. I have a place to start from.
In the movie Young Victoria
I watched this a few days ago and I was completely inspired by Queen Victoria’s story. I fell in love with it actually…with all of it…the movie, the story, Emily Blunt, all of it.