Giving Myself Permission to Heal

Since March, I have been reassured that this was time for me to focus on my health and healing. It is such an uncomfortable thing to think about when every part of who I am is about taking care of others. The thing is that mentally and physically I did hit a brick wall. I didn’t know how broken I was or why.

As I work through a lot of this, I am told over and over again to write. I am told to focus on healing. I start doing creative things that I have not done in decades. I go to an awful lot of medical appointments. I write some more. I start to finger through the stored accumulation of a lifetime of hastily packed items from a farm, a creamery, a failed marriage, parenthood, education, a commercial building, my youth…

What do I do with all of this? 

I am sitting with everything and starting to process their meaning to me today and remembering a lot. When you are in survival mode for so long, you don’t sit with things. You don’t feel. You cannot answer super simple questions like “how are you?” You don’t grieve. You don’t do anything more than depend on the muscle memory of daily life and make sure everyone is ok to the best of your ability.

I want to use this space to document this journey. This will evolve as I move along. We will see what happens.

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