A cup can only hold so much substance until it over flows. My own cup is about ready to boil over. I can only handle so much death, injury, and illness happening to my loved ones before my body and my mind start to break down. The human body can sustain much stress; that’s how we have survived for thousands of years. But my circuits are currently over loaded with the thoughts and feelings I’ve recently allowed myself to process. Over the past few months I’ve reached several points of exhaustion. I’ve probably pushed my body a little too far with my workouts on top of a very physically demanding job, without proper nourishment of food and rest. Anxiety levels have peaked as well from the depths of my subconsciouse. How do I know this? Nausea has set in almost every day, several times a time. I’m used to pushing myself. I have this nagging “I can always do more” attitude that’s not a healthy mantra to listen to at this point. Like I’ve mentioned before, the universe has told me to slow down, but my life has kicked me into full gear with events completely out of my control. It’s only been 7 months since my girls were born, and passed on. I’m still healing, coping, and grieving. It’s only been 5 months since I started therapy and exercise. A process that has opened me up not only on how to deal with my girls short life, but also understanding who I am and what I need. I’m the captain of my family’s ship: emotionally, spiritually, physically, everything. If I go down, everyone inevitably goes down with me. I just won’t let that happen.

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I wrote the above paragraphs two weeks ago, hence my lack of post last week. To say I was overwhelmed and stressed would have been an understatement. There was no time or mental capacity to finish when so many important events were happening. It took us four months and half a dozen denials, but we purchased our first home. The excitement was quickly watered down with the dread of moving all our crap. I have the most amazing sister who was one of the only people that helped me move all of our stuff, since my husband is healing from a dislocated knee and I still have to work. A promotion is on the horizon as well, pushing my mental frame even further into the ether. What my friends, family, and coworkers don’t understand is that I’m not the person I once was. Perhaps I never will be. Honestly I’m better than I was. Sure I have strong bouts of anxiety, occasional depression, hyper sensitivities, and soul crushing grief, just to name a few. But I have a fresh perspective on life, a greater sense of empathy, and a creative spirit that has been released out of its logical confines. I’m constantly trying to look up. Figuratively and quite literally. To not cave into myself or get stuck in my own head. The trance of letting myself sink into oblivion is quite intoxicating and indescribable. But there is no life for me there. There is no life for anyone there. Join me on my path back to hope~