I had a day today. It was a day filled with so much relief, sadness, hope, and frustration that by the time I got home all I could do was sit quietly on my bed staring into space.
I wanted a drink.
I started to think I needed a drink.
That would make this better. My emotions would feel a bit smoother with a drink. I might relax a bit if I drink.
I haven't felt that way in a long time.
So I grabbed my phone and sent a dear friend a message about my day, ending it with "I sometimes wish I hadn't quit drinking. A drink sounds good right now."
She wrote back that sometimes life puts us between a rock and another fucking rock. And she reminded me of my strength.
And I told my husband the truth: I wanted a drink. And he told me that we were in this together, and he reminded me of my strength.
And here's the thing. I wasn't looking for a drink. I was looking for a release from everything that was welling up inside of me that felt out of control and needed calming. (Let's be honest...what I needed was a Daniel Tiger song....Daniel's parents really did have it all figured out.)
Our strength ebbs and flows. It is not always apparent or visible. We do not always feel like Wonder Woman. And there are times when damn it, I don't want to be strong anymore. When everything feels out of control and I just want it to all go away.
But there our strength lies, not in the herculean feats, but in the quiet moments, the moments where we don't think we can get up one more time, the times when we fall apart and ask for help, the times when we accept help. Our strength lies in our ability to see those moments, not as failures, but as hurdles. Hurdles that sometimes force us to pause and breathe before attempting to clear them....hurdles that are trying hard to convince us we're done, we've reached the end, there is no strength left.
But we get up, and get over, and keep moving.
I got up. And I put on my running shoes. And I found my release...running down the street pulling my out of shape dog behind me. I found the quiet my head needed, and the emotions subsided. And I reminded myself of my strength.
I wanted a drink.
I started to think I needed a drink.
That would make this better. My emotions would feel a bit smoother with a drink. I might relax a bit if I drink.
I haven't felt that way in a long time.
So I grabbed my phone and sent a dear friend a message about my day, ending it with "I sometimes wish I hadn't quit drinking. A drink sounds good right now."
She wrote back that sometimes life puts us between a rock and another fucking rock. And she reminded me of my strength.
And I told my husband the truth: I wanted a drink. And he told me that we were in this together, and he reminded me of my strength.
And here's the thing. I wasn't looking for a drink. I was looking for a release from everything that was welling up inside of me that felt out of control and needed calming. (Let's be honest...what I needed was a Daniel Tiger song....Daniel's parents really did have it all figured out.)
Our strength ebbs and flows. It is not always apparent or visible. We do not always feel like Wonder Woman. And there are times when damn it, I don't want to be strong anymore. When everything feels out of control and I just want it to all go away.
But there our strength lies, not in the herculean feats, but in the quiet moments, the moments where we don't think we can get up one more time, the times when we fall apart and ask for help, the times when we accept help. Our strength lies in our ability to see those moments, not as failures, but as hurdles. Hurdles that sometimes force us to pause and breathe before attempting to clear them....hurdles that are trying hard to convince us we're done, we've reached the end, there is no strength left.
But we get up, and get over, and keep moving.
I got up. And I put on my running shoes. And I found my release...running down the street pulling my out of shape dog behind me. I found the quiet my head needed, and the emotions subsided. And I reminded myself of my strength.