My hearts been heavy lately.
A little over a week ago, I started writing about something that I’ve never really opened up about before.
I started pouring my heart into the notes section of my iPhone. My thumbs moved quickly as the words just flowed. The pain was relived. The burden was being shared. Talking about it with no one, but sharing it.
I started thinking about, talking about, and remembering the time when I lost my dad.
Since it happened, I’ve never really talked about it.
You tell people your dad died and they say “I’m so sorry” and then you reply with “thank you” and don’t say much else until you change the subject.
But to be honest I’ve never even talked about it with myself much. I kind of tucked it away. When it came to mind, I’d have a good cry and go on.
But last week was different.
I felt drawn to write about it. I don’t know why, but it could’ve been because I was nearing the anniversary of my miscarriage. Which is also near my dads birthday, November 8th.
I thought I was going to share what I wrote. But the more I was writing, the more I realized it was more of a therapy session for me, even if I decided to delete it afterwards.
I do feel like I’ll share it eventually.. once I finish writing it.
But I got to a point where I had to take a breather.
At that point,
Josh happened to walk into the room. I knew I couldn’t hold back my tears so I just said “if I start crying this is why” lol. Of course I started crying saying those words and then I explained to him what I was doing.
We had a good little therapy session together where I cried a ton. Gah, I’m so thankful I have him.
I’ve always felt safe with him. And I’ve always been able to share any and everything with him. But even after 13 years, I’ve never shared those feelings with him.
Because I didn’t know they were there.
Since that night, I haven’t gone back to my story. I haven’t finished what I started. I haven’t read my own words.
And for a week now I’ve been stuck in a different state of mind.
I’ll explain what I mean by that.
We’re currently planning a move so we’ve been searching for a home, dealing with finances, and kids, all that good jazz. So I’ve been a little stressed out with that.
And I’ve been using it as an excuse. “Oh I’m too busy to write because I’ve gotta find a house, I’ve gotta budget, I’ve gotta do this and that”
But in reality, it’s because I’m scared.
I don’t wanna face my fear.
When I started writing about that life changing event, I started learning about parts of myself I didn’t even remember.
I was forced to relive that time in my life and remember exactly what I was feeling as a child. And how it affected me growing up.
As much as I try to believe it didn’t affect me too bad.
Even if I decide to keep those words to myself, I learned so much about me.
My memories came back instantly, once I let them.
I learned that I’ve kept those feelings tucked wayyyyyy, way down somewhere in my memory.
And when I got them out, I felt so relieved.
Like the burden I kept hidden was finally gone.
But I also felt drained. Tired. Exhausted. Overwhelmed.
And I’ve been stuck in the motions of moving through life since then.
I don’t feel motivated and I haven’t felt inspired.
I feel like I could go back and finish what I started.
I feel like I got everything out, but I don’t remember.
So I’ve been scared to go back and release more.
But today, I realized I need to. Because I remember how good it felt to feel relieved.
And maybe I’m stuck in this unmotivated, uninspired state of mind because I have more that needs to be released.
So tonight, I’m going to open my rough draft.
I’m going to be brave and read it.
I’m gonna to try to finish it.
And then I’m going to try to share it with you. ❤️