Two years ago, September pulled me into darkness. The floor broke beneath me and I free fell with an anchor tied to my ankles. It was terrifying, it was painful, but it also showed me the unbelievable strength that can be found in struggle.
Fast forward to last month, and you may have noticed that blogging was virtually non existent on my end. Well, October was another roller coaster month. Granted not nearly as horrific as 2015, but hard non the less. You know the picture of the Cat in the Hat balancing on a ball holding twelve thousand things in his hand? That was me. Between being busy creating products for this month’s launch, attending seminars to further my professional development, taking on a seasonal night shift, dealing with extreme mom guilt and attempting to keep an active toddler happy despite the nightly sobbed question of “why are you leaving me?” October was hard. Add to it a heart filled by some really great news only to be turned around and shattered by a heartbreaking diagnosis, and I was still okay because I had to be…and then I met Neil Patrick Harris and my life imploded.
One of the things I learned at one of the seminars I attended was that in a crisis you can either look for the danger or the opportunity, but what was left out was that you also need to process your feelings. You need to allow yourself to break before picking yourself back up and being that ultimate beacon of strength people are depending on you to be. Sweeping things under the rug only feeds into the eye of the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
Meeting NPH was like that final rush of adrenaline before your body begins to process the trauma of the car crash. The surge of energy overwhelmed my already shaken carbonation and just like the can of pop you foolishly put in the freezer, I exploded. All the emotions, all the heart aches, all the pressures I had been putting on myself, everything I had kept bottled up came rushing out in a very public, very embarrassing way.
When a mom breaks there’s not only the emotions from the why, but a horrible bout of guilt for not being enough. That awful feeling of not attaining the ridiculous illusion of motherhood perfection that is expected of you. While of course those expectations are bullshit, it’s still something that aches through you.
For me, the way I process emotions and work through struggles is through writing which was something I did not allow myself to do last month. I wasn’t brave. I was honestly afraid of what would come out and what I would be forced to deal with. Writing keeps me sane. It keeps me self aware, it allows me to let go of the toxic negativity that can easily build beneath the surface if left untouched, and it really allows me to let go, move on, and focus on the positives.
I hate the feeling of becoming a geyser. It really doesn’t do any good for anyone–especially me. I love that I found something that works to keep myself in check, and that helps me through the struggles, but I need to actually do it. I need to fit time in my day to actually take care of myself so that I can actually properly and effectively take care of others.
Strength isn’t about never breaking. It’s about picking yourself up, and finding a way to move forward. Strength isn’t about burying emotions, it’s about making sense out of hardships, clearing your mind to be able to face a problem head on.
The fact that you break isn’t what makes you weak, the only weakness is when you use that break as an excuse to not get back up again.
October broke me, but believe it when I say that November is going to see me rise.