A Confession.

I have a confession to make. I’ve been hiding the fact that I am a fraud. I have been trying to write this blog about self care and healing, and yet for many months now I haven’t doing either of those things. I haven’t been able to write because I’ve been busy being a fraud. I haven’t been working out. No yoga, except for a little at home that was prescribed by my movement therapist. He was so fantastic that I just couldn’t go back for more sessions, because I felt like I was failing him and wasting his time. No kettlebells, even though I had a regular thing going for several months and began to feel stronger. No more than five or six hours of sleep per night. My headaches and nightmares are coming back with the vengeance of a toddler given the wrong color cup. Breakfast on more than one occasion has been a handful (or two) of chocolate covered almonds sprinkled with sea salt and turbinado sugar. Many days I eat more pasta than vegetables. A glass (or three) of dry, red wine quiets the anxiety in my head at night. I stay up until 2am watching Seth Meyers, Anderson Cooper, Stephen Colbert, and Rachel Maddow on YouTube and feel sick about the world my children will inhabit. I am stressed, sad, and certainly not taking care of myself. I have headaches and body aches. I have gained obvious weight. My back injury has flared up more than usual. I’m tired all the time and snap at my children. It doesn’t bode well for that long, horizontal wrinkle across my forehead. I am failing myself and wasting my time. These feel like the toughest bad habits to break.

I am embarrassed to come here and write under the heading To Bounce Not Break, because so often I feel broken. I am losing my body as well as my mind. I’m missing time with my children and holding onto negativity. I have been attempting to escape and ignore myself with food and wine and mindless, endless television. I have been pushing through the days with my head down, afraid to look up and see the world I am in. I have been afraid to try, feeling as if I am so low that I cannot get back up. I am ashamed and alone, with so much work ahead of me. I am back at the bottom and must take those first steps yet again.

The Running Lady.

The biggest smile of my week just came today, in the form of a woman running through my neighborhood. She is eighty years old if she’s a day. Running. I smiled and waved like she was a parade float as she crested the top of a hill. She has wispy, white cotton candy hair, thick glasses, and neon orange sneakers. She smiled, waved back, and kept running.