Today I realized that many of the posts I have written up until now were thoughts in my mind or feelings in my heart, they exited their home, went through my fingertips to a keyboard and were transferred into a word like document (this blog) never to be seen or thought of again. Like... I kind of blacked out in the making. No editing. No reading, just write and send... never to read again.
It's weird when someone says something to me in regards to a past post. Half of the time I'm confused... like WHOA... HOW DOES SHE KNOW THAT ABOUT MY LIFE!!!!? Oh yeah, I write a blog. I legit have to check myself daily. RIGHT! I put my whole life out there for whoever wants to read it to do so. What is that... Crazy? Egotistical? Vulnerable? Therapeutic? All of the above?
Who do I think I am? Why do I think I'm important enough to write my thoughts and opinions and post them to the internet for the world to see, ya know?
Writing for me is therapy. It's that hour long session with a counselor that I need but miss... or just don't schedule. It's my coffee date with a close friend... a vent sesh, a place to process, or to "talk through" life until I can get down to the bottom of the issue and unveil a solution. It's a place to dump all of the crap in my head and heart. I HAVE TO UNLOAD this stuff... it piles up... the Emily in my mind gets exhausted running around from place to place analyzing, wondering, questioning, picking apart, piecing together ALL THE THINGS. See my mind is a wild place to be. Wild like Riverbend on a Saturday night or like the millions of pigeons in Central Park who dive bomb spilled popcorn (no idea where that came from but felt so fitting).
I just recently listened to a sermon sent to me by my good friend Chrissy entitled, "Suffering". Dun dun DUUUUUN. It was super theological and there was NO way for me to hear even 1/4 of it the first time but it was awesome. In it, he asks why we act surprised when we are thrown into suffering. Why is this surprising to us? If you aren't suffering, get ready, because you will be at some point. DUH... that's what life is. And I totally agree... I'm cool with my whole load, it's His will. These are my cards and, of course, pain is attached to suffering and that's L-I-F-E. But with suffering comes growth, wisdom, so many new chances to cross paths with people who you never would have crossed paths with. Pain is temporary. It sucks. For me pain is anxiety... I feel it in my gut... in my throat- lumps in my throat. I don't sleep. I drink too much. I worry, I'm scared.
Do ya'll feel scared? 75% of the time I'm cool. I'm not scared of the outcome, I trust in Him, I feel peace and know life is {most of the time} totally out of my control. BUT DAMMMN there's that 25% where I am a trainwreck. Fear paralyzes me. I spiral, I can't seem to find my footing, I'm uprooted and out of control... TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL. The worries, the scenarios of life that play out- they are RIDICULOUS. They could come true, of course, but good grief!!! If I can step back for a solid minute, I can chill it out and say, "No, in your head anxious Emily, you are not going to be homeless with no food and nobody to help." "You ARE a good mom and a good woman." "You ARE doing the absolute best you can do".
But sometimes my best... it's just mediocre.
It is my best.
I'm spread so thin and feel chaotic and overwhelmed. I need ME time. Who is ME? How can I find her again and redefine her? Who are my people... who's in my tribe? Who can I trust? These are my current struggles. Truth vs. lies -- STRUGGLE. And that's annoying because here I am 36 years old with 3 children and a husband of 10 years and some of my life struggles are the same ones I have wrestled with since my early 20's. Hmph. BUT.. progress. It's not fast, but it's there and that.... that's something I'm cool with.
Vent Sesh/Processing party... this is what writing is for me.
Takeaways... MAKE SOME FLIPPIN' TIME FOR YOU. Re-connect. Date your husband. Find your peeps again. Hire a babysitter. Run. Go to the dentist.. good grief... go to the dentist already. Keep writing.
Keep writing. Just keep writing.
xo
It's weird when someone says something to me in regards to a past post. Half of the time I'm confused... like WHOA... HOW DOES SHE KNOW THAT ABOUT MY LIFE!!!!? Oh yeah, I write a blog. I legit have to check myself daily. RIGHT! I put my whole life out there for whoever wants to read it to do so. What is that... Crazy? Egotistical? Vulnerable? Therapeutic? All of the above?
Who do I think I am? Why do I think I'm important enough to write my thoughts and opinions and post them to the internet for the world to see, ya know?
Writing for me is therapy. It's that hour long session with a counselor that I need but miss... or just don't schedule. It's my coffee date with a close friend... a vent sesh, a place to process, or to "talk through" life until I can get down to the bottom of the issue and unveil a solution. It's a place to dump all of the crap in my head and heart. I HAVE TO UNLOAD this stuff... it piles up... the Emily in my mind gets exhausted running around from place to place analyzing, wondering, questioning, picking apart, piecing together ALL THE THINGS. See my mind is a wild place to be. Wild like Riverbend on a Saturday night or like the millions of pigeons in Central Park who dive bomb spilled popcorn (no idea where that came from but felt so fitting).
I just recently listened to a sermon sent to me by my good friend Chrissy entitled, "Suffering". Dun dun DUUUUUN. It was super theological and there was NO way for me to hear even 1/4 of it the first time but it was awesome. In it, he asks why we act surprised when we are thrown into suffering. Why is this surprising to us? If you aren't suffering, get ready, because you will be at some point. DUH... that's what life is. And I totally agree... I'm cool with my whole load, it's His will. These are my cards and, of course, pain is attached to suffering and that's L-I-F-E. But with suffering comes growth, wisdom, so many new chances to cross paths with people who you never would have crossed paths with. Pain is temporary. It sucks. For me pain is anxiety... I feel it in my gut... in my throat- lumps in my throat. I don't sleep. I drink too much. I worry, I'm scared.
Do ya'll feel scared? 75% of the time I'm cool. I'm not scared of the outcome, I trust in Him, I feel peace and know life is {most of the time} totally out of my control. BUT DAMMMN there's that 25% where I am a trainwreck. Fear paralyzes me. I spiral, I can't seem to find my footing, I'm uprooted and out of control... TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL. The worries, the scenarios of life that play out- they are RIDICULOUS. They could come true, of course, but good grief!!! If I can step back for a solid minute, I can chill it out and say, "No, in your head anxious Emily, you are not going to be homeless with no food and nobody to help." "You ARE a good mom and a good woman." "You ARE doing the absolute best you can do".
But sometimes my best... it's just mediocre.
It is my best.
I'm spread so thin and feel chaotic and overwhelmed. I need ME time. Who is ME? How can I find her again and redefine her? Who are my people... who's in my tribe? Who can I trust? These are my current struggles. Truth vs. lies -- STRUGGLE. And that's annoying because here I am 36 years old with 3 children and a husband of 10 years and some of my life struggles are the same ones I have wrestled with since my early 20's. Hmph. BUT.. progress. It's not fast, but it's there and that.... that's something I'm cool with.
Vent Sesh/Processing party... this is what writing is for me.
Takeaways... MAKE SOME FLIPPIN' TIME FOR YOU. Re-connect. Date your husband. Find your peeps again. Hire a babysitter. Run. Go to the dentist.. good grief... go to the dentist already. Keep writing.
Keep writing. Just keep writing.
xo
THIS! THIS is what we as most women need. I love your raw take on what we are all experiencing in deep ways , all different from the next , yet connected. Keep writing...keep hanging in there. Just Keep On! And if you ever need a different girls night that your girls, you gotta friend here. Your words are powerful. Keep writing...and writing...and writing.
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