Do you know what it’s like to be sad so often? To wish so much for a reprieve from that sadness, no matter how temporary? To do things you know you shouldn’t do, because you think it’ll stop you from feeling that sadness for a few minutes, hours and possibly days? Do you know what it’s like to also fear joy? To believe that it will only end and leave you with even more sadness? To not trust a happy moment or feel it in its entirety because all you can think about is the inevitable crash that will come afterwards? 

Do you know what it’s like to crave a genuine soul connection with someone, but fear getting too close because of all those who have loved you and left? To carry this fear of abandonment around with you like a weighted vest. Knowing that an open heart will bring healing, but also poses the risk of even more pain. 

Do you know what it’s like to want to grow and heal, but being too scared to take that first step? Because what if you change and improve your life and still nobody loves you? At least when you live closed off, you don’t expect many people to want to enter into your life and stay. 

A letter to me:

Remember that time back in 2018 when you decided to stop drinking, eat better and work out with a personal trainer? You felt your best and were happy, but the man you loved stopped putting in any effort because he didn’t think you two had anything in common now that you were sober. Do you remember that heartbreaking, gut wrenching feeling you lived with for a year and a half when you felt him falling out of love with you? But you desperately held on because you thought it would get better? You couldn’t leave because there was no way you could afford a place to live on your own and you wouldn’t move back home as an adult. Remember that?

Oh, but remember the day when you put yourself first and walked away? You found a job that was everything you had wanted, in a quiet and beautiful place? The day when you finally said you didn’t care about being alone, that you would rather be happy? Remember when you listened to your heart?

Dear girl, I hope you can summon that same strength now. To put yourself first. To really, truly love the person you are. To forgive the person you were. To have faith in the person you will become. I know it’s not easy to feel so alone all the time, to deal with the wounds of your past and present without numbing them with booze. I know you feel sad and unwanted frequently, but it’s time to face those feelings head on. It’s time to put in the work. 

Feel those feelings of sadness and heartache. It’s normal for a romantic like you to feel sadness and loss because none of your relationships have worked out. Cry those tears and learn to be okay with the fact that you don’t have a man by your side. Not yet. It’s not time for that.

it’s time for you to be strong. To understand that the sadness will eventually come to an end. The journey of sobriety is not easy, but you’re a few days away from the five year mark. It’s ok to be grateful for that. It’s ok to have hope. And it’s ok to cry.

Don’t fear the sadness. You have the tools to deal with it now. Close the page on today, get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.

Blue aster and golden rod

Honeysuckle and daisies 

Bountiful wildflowers

Greet the senses with a

Springtime dance

Swaying through the 

Meadow grass.

Swallows chirp and flit

Above the boardwalk,

Blue heads peeking out

From little holes 

In wooden birdhouses.

Side by side

Our shoes step

On the same piece of earth

For the last time.

No longer will 

Your eyes look into mine

The way they did that night

When you told me

You loved me.

A seeded lie

Planted in the fertile soil

In this meadow

Of goodbyes 

I’ll most likely take this down after a few days, but I needed the space to write down my thoughts.

Every time someone leaves, my heart is reminded of all the other times I’ve felt abandoned from what was supposedly love. It hurts like hell, this lifelong wound that never really seems to heal before being ripped open once again. 

It’s one thing when it affects my emotions and my mood, but when it starts encroaching upon my physical health, (like shingles at age 35!) that’s when I realize that maybe I need to be doing something different. 

“Just cry it out. The more you cry, the more you heal.” Well, I don’t know if that’s quite working anymore. I don’t really feel better. I still feel an intense amount of pain and a hole that is just never quite filled. Even more, I hate that I feel this way. I hate that abandonment (old and more recent) has such a big effect on every part of me.

Every time I try and lift, hike, row, etc. out the pain, I get sick and am forced to rest. It’s been almost a month since I’ve been able to do any sort of physical workout. 

At least I’m still sober. Somehow. It seems to be one of the only things I have a hold on. I’m really hoping that once my body returns to a somewhat normal state when the shingles are finally gone, I’ll have a better outlook on things.

For now, I’m just angry and sad, and sick and tired of crying the same tears.

This picture is from just shy of two years ago. Anytime I’d come across it, I’d get sad. I was sad because I looked so goddamn happy in the photo, and my thought was that my happiness was due to the other person in the photo with me. “I was so happy,” I’d say over and over, through tears, and I didn’t realize until now that my joy was for an entirely different reason. 

I was happy because I’d learned to see life differently. I was happy because of the choices I’d made in my life up until that day- the healing, the risks and the shift in mindset. I was happy because I opened my heart and allowed light and love to enter.

I’ve come to realize that the person I end up with in life does not need to make me smile. I can do that on my own through friendships, adventures, humor, and appreciation of the little things. I’ve also come to realize that holding onto something that was only meant to hold a temporary part in my life was not allowing me to move forward. I’ll always remember that fun adventure on the bike with that wonderful person, and what they added to my life. I’ll always see that old relationship as a gift- one that taught me to be open and honest with my feelings and to hold firm to what I want in life.

The following photos also show the joy that I’ve found in life, in the times I’ve learned to live in the moment- not feeling bad about my past or worrying about my future.

It’s funny, the past few months have been some of my happiest, yet I’ve taken little to no photographs of the special moments. I’ve captured them in written reflections after they’ve finished, which has been quite valuable for me.

For those who follow my writing in various places or who know me on a deeper level, you may think I am going through a sad or dark time. This is where the balance between light and darkness comes into play. As one grows, so does the other. My depression does not go away, but rather I am better equipped to understand it’s presence. I also talk about it more than I ever have, and am extremely open about even the smallest of thoughts that cause fear, sadness or anxiety. 

Here’s to living in the moment, breath by breath, as often as we can.

These past couple days have been a struggle, so I turned to writing as a way to work through some of my feelings.

As I sit at my kitchen table drinking some homemade ginger tea, I have mixed thoughts about the place I am in my life. On one hand, I’ve overcome a lot, have s job I love, am sober, have some new friends and a loving little pup. On the other hand, I’m still dealing with a lot of sadness and fear, and it prevents me from really letting people in. 

I’m just under 8 hours I’ll be turning 35. A bit early for a midlife crisis, but I suppose I’ve always done things a little differently

Have you ever felt it? 

That twinge of unfamiliarity in the positive

As it falls from the sky like snow

and shocks you with its cold? 

You deserve it, you know,

And it’s okay to let go 

Of the all too familiar darkness

That clings to your bones

And warms your pale skin.

You don’t have to give pain 

a permanent home

In your soul.

It’s time you opened up

Your door and let in the cold,

Wake up from your slumber

And get rid of the old

Ways of letting life win,

As it pinned you down 

Over and over again.

Do you feel it now,

That Arctic wind

Disrupting your darkness

And bringing with it

The lightest touch of love

Attached to every January snowflake.

Let it in.

She was sad for all that she had lost,

For the things that attached themselves to her heart 

Tattooed memories covered her pale canvas

From head to toe,

Not in skin, but in her soul-

Stories of love, loss and heartache.

She knew each time she sat in that chair 

That the designs would be permanent,

Until her dark hair turned silver

And her bones ached beneath her.

Though her feet had carried her away,

Often more than once,

These memories had found a place

To carve themselves into

Muscles, bones, heart and soul,

Every part of her insides defaced.

A constant reminder,

A blessing

Or a curse?

To be reminded by a simple scent,

Sound, taste

To feel a memory burn in her eyes

And stream down her face?

She had been called heartless

And cold

But if anyone could see the pain

She holds,

Every “I love you”

Every smile and embrace

Is carried with her day after day.

She asked the sky to hold some of the weight,

Oh but when it snows or rains

It all falls back to her

And settles into its familiar place,

These tattooed memories

Will never be erased.

When most people hear the word Christmas, they picture a beautiful tree surrounded by presents, with friends and family gathered around singing songs, laughing and having a wonderful holiday feast. What I’ve learned, however, is that Christmas is made of small magical moments, that lead up to the actual calendar day. Moments like walking through the woods as the moon smiles upon a nearby lake and lights the trail ahead. Moments of singing loudly to Christmas carols and 90’s music in the car on the way to pick out ornaments, and racing through the door to add them to the tree. Moments of laughter and dance in the living room, and moments of delighted children running through the falling snow. The here and now moments, the little things- acts of kindness, friendship and love. The moments when we feel most at home. All of these and more, make up this Christmas.

The air smells of evergreen 

Peppermint and change 

As the winter winds swirl

Through the nearby forest.

The Christmas tree

In the living room

Is dressed in colorful 

Childhood nostalgia,

But the feeling 

Of this year 

Is unlike any other.

For the star that 

Keeps watch

Over me and my family

Has been placed 

By loving hands.

And the voice that speaks

Inside my heart

Is one of joy and light,

Leading me home

Like Polaris

In the darkest 

Winter nights.