Skip to main content

Keep writing.

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



Comments

  1. 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.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

so... about me.

I have been lost. In adulthood. In wife life. In motherhood. Where did I go? Me... Emily. The photo junkie, jewelry artist, music loving, traveling fool. What happened to date nights, or even late nights? Slow dancing to Billie Holiday with a bottle of red while fish tacos cook in the kitchen. I day dream of Costa Rica and shopping sprees, sleeping in with my handsome man next to me and having coffee in bed. Let's talk self care. It used to mean pedicures and massages, a weekend getaway or a girls night. It's no secret that life is hard and somewhere in the midst I've lost myself. I have forgotten who i am aside from being a wife, a mom, a friend, a daughter. I don't get my hair done or my nails. I would die for a massage or just a fancy bath where I could soak as long as I want. I could use a few strokes of mascara and could totally benefit from some whitening strips. I didn't realize I had abandoned not just these superficial things but also TRULY carin

let. that. shit. go.

The stigma. The expectations.  The looks. Society and the approval needed.  It's too much and I just don't want to do it anymore. I wasn't sleeping, my mind couldn't slow down. I felt like I was going to black out, worried about my heart... anxiety.  I have learned that mourning is a big part of life.. like grieving, not beautiful sunsets and a hot cup o joe.  For me, grieving isn't a one part thing, it is ridiculously complex and slightly confusing. We have spent time grieving what we thought life was going to look like and time accepting that it is going to look differently. I had expected that my life was going to look exactly as I had always dreamt... wife, mom, social circles, world travels, big moves, promotions, aunts uncles grandparents, the whole shabang. Never in a million years did I think I would have huge bumps along the way, heavy topics to wade through, the worlds heaviest decisions to make, and then.... all the other normal stuff of wife,mom, social

the Story.

As I sit in this hospital room listening to the clicking of the IV fluids and a sweet little teeny tiny baby snore, I endulge myself with a 16oz mocha and a chocolate chip muffin and think two things: Dollie is the toughest person I have ever met and this shiz has  been hard. Yesterday at 8:00 am central time Dahlia underwent a 4 hour surgery to repair her grade 4 hydronephrosis of her left kidney and to release both of her Achilles’ tendons in her tiny baby feet. At 20 weeks pregnant I went in to Dr. Brody’s office for what I thought was a typical ultrasound. It was me and Brooks and it turned out it was my 20 week anatomy scan. As Robin scanned me she noticed that the baby’s left kidney was dilated but assured me that it sometimes happens and not to freak out. She continued to scan that baby and as she got to the brain she grew more quiet than normal. At that time Dr. Brody popped in and looked at the screen and I could see with the exchange of looks that something was wrong. R