This decade was filled with so many things.
Unfortunately, most of those things hurt. A lot.
Somewhere along the way I learned that through the hurt we are able to find valuable lessons, even if they don’t seem like lessons at all.
This decade I walked away from my “family” – primarily my mother.
In years following up to it I had began to see the toxicity radiating from her. It’s almost as if when she knew I could see it, we locked eyes and a fire was lit within her core with the only path of destruction was leading straight to me. I was the target because I saw the truth.
While the truth is often known to set you free, it will first set you on fire.
This fire will burn everything you know, everything you thought you knew, and everything you thought was fireproof.
I lost most of my siblings, I lost myself almost entirely. The month after I left, I slept. I slept and slept and slept. There was no other escape from reality. My mind and body shut down.
What I found when I came out of the haze was the blessings on the other side. This traumatic loss showed me the incredible people that are still out there in the world. I found some people who care for me more than my mother ever did.
I found people who woke me, stood me up, and held me while I was putting myself back together. It sounds simple enough but I promise it came with some very, very low times.
This decade has been filled with incredible loss, some of the most magical people I have known have been lost to this life that will sideswipe you if you aren’t on your toes at all times.
The very people who held me when I couldn’t stand, lost themselves and I wasn’t there. The guilt of failure runs deep, and the sorrow is hard to bear but it is my interpretation of this world that those people did their work.
They fought their fight.
They did all they could and they did it with every fiber of their being until their time was done. I don’t know how else to see loss of that magnitude. My soul tells me they fought so the rest of us could keep fighting.
It may sound like a bunch of hocus pocus but when you’ve witnessed so much, walked through so much and find yourself on the other side wondering, “why did I make it?” – you have to find a reason.
Each day that I felt like I couldn’t possibly do this life over again tomorrow I have gently reminded myself that my work here is not done.
I made it so I can help someone else make it.
We are here to carry each other,
help each other,
and give hope to each other.
It’s dangerous territory, weeding your way through the wounded sticking your hand out to support. Sometimes you reach the wrong hand and they try to pull you back down to where you started from. It takes more power, hope, and faith than I ever imagined to shake the hand off, stand yourself back up and keep trekking.
But I know that’s why I’m still here. That’s why I survived. That’s why I was woven with the souls I have been.
Our journeys don’t stop at the fight of a narcissistic parent.
They don’t stop at the mentally, physically, verbally abusive drug addicted parent.
They don’t stop at domestic violence, theft, destruction, debt.
Our journeys prevail, we tuck those lessons in deep and we use them to find humanity in the world.
To remember we are all fighting something the other knows nothing about.
We are all human, and we all need to treat each other humanly.
Don’t let your journey stop at the wrong hand, don’t let the wrong hand tell you your work is finished, your work is pointless, you are less than.
Shake that hand and move on.
You are here for a reason.
You have a purpose.
You are worthy.
You are on your journey.