It’s grey and cloudy today.

I like it.  It fits with where my heart is at.  I wouldn’t say that I am sad or depressed by any means.  I kind of just am.  I promised my wounded parts last night that today I would allow the feelings to be felt.  I, as the core would allow the grief to come to the surface instead of pushing it aside with a TV show, facebook or deny them because I don’t want it to mean anything.

This is a hard week for me.  I have an ugly anniversary on Thursday.  I sat down to write the story last week because I thought I was ready.

I’m not.

I have to give myself permission in this season to not write certain things that are too ugly or painful.  That permission feels very nurturing and tender.

I am grieving and remembering and it hurts.  This is a tough time of year for me.  It’s memory after memory, anniversary after anniversary.  Like a flood of blood coming out of a wound I need a bandage to put over the memories to sop up the pain and ache that is flowing from my heart.

Healing is hard and after 2 ½ years of some “serious as shit” therapy it seems only to be getting harder.  When you just hit the root of something it becomes harder first.   I don’t like that.  I am tired, ugh; so very tired.  As I go deeper it feels like the mountain of not being able to handle it all just gets bigger.

I’m finding that bandage in words, in the beauty of new friendships, in finding my BRAVE, in holding onto the light; because I know it’s there.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by even the daily life tasks.  There’s dishes, laundry, cleaning, feeding the cat and my daughter and I.  I struggle with even getting those things done, let alone feeling my FEELINGS.

Because we all know how easy it is to feel right

When the grief is piled high, I tell those wounded souls inside that they aren’t allowed to feel right now it starts to become outwardly evident.  The dishes pile higher, the laundry pile (although clean) on my floor stays unfolded, I get angry at the cat for wanting to be fed because I don’t even know how to feed myself.

Abigail get’s what she needs.

But me?

I don’t take care of myself, inwardly or outwardly.  Showers become farther apart because the EFFORT that it takes to do all that feels like TOO MUCH.

It all feels like too much lately.

Yet something has been shifting in the last week; as the leaves really start to fall.

Fall is my favorite season.  I mean despite that it becomes cardigan and scarf weather which everyone knows is my all.time.favorite.  I like the cool weather, the grey days and yes I like when it snows.   I love the coolness outside and the warmth inside, snuggling with my girl watching a movie and drinking hot cocoa.  And I am just going to be honest; I have a MUCH better cold weather wardrobe than I do warm weather.

Ok so that aside.

This year I am seeing life as the leaves fall.  As my grief builds and I wonder in this head of mine what to do with it; I watch the leaves change from bright green to yellow/purple/red/orange and then.they.FALL

What if I let my grief fall?

What if, as I remember every painful anniversary from now until April I let it fall?  Just as the leaves do.

But rather than letting it fall away into the abyss of

“Sorry your feelings aren’t valid and I AM NOT GOING TO FEEL YOU”

What if they fall into something beautiful?

Words

Art

Loving my daughter the way I was never loved

Loving MYSELF the way I was never loved

Looking into the heart of the God who digs in the dirt with me

I wrote about dancing in the fire and not being afraid; of coming out smelling like smoke and knowing that’s okay.  I want to do that now.

I want to have the ashes from things burned down in my hands and throw them; knowing that The Spirit will catch them.

I want to pick up more and smear them on my head and sit with words burning in my bones and be okay with the ache they cause.

Instead of running from remembering.

I have a friend who told me she’s going to call me on my running and I love her for that.

I am going to tell each and every wounded part of me that their feelings and memories are okay.   I am giving them permission to feel them, to tell me what they need to feel loved and nurtured.

It’s going to be a tough few months but I am not going to hide my head in fear.

As the leaves continue to fall I am going to remember to live as I grieve.

As Always,

Bethany

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