It’s funny to me when life decides to allow trauma and triumph to run parallel to one another. Usually we see life as a roller coaster, with its up and downs and ups again. But when it is a Nascar raceway, the cars collide. The trauma affects the triumph affects the trauma… And then there is a 20 car pile up that you have to sort through to find survivors. I much prefer the roller coaster approach, as that is what I am much more well-versed in.
I have spent 28 years on this planet. Soon to be 29 (you should totally get me something for my birthday, August 11). I have had good months. I have had bad months. I have had bad days. I have had bad hours. But nothing had prepared me for the cluster of it all happening in the same month, day, hour. This has been my reality for about two years. I imagine that this is usually enough to call it a nervous breakdown. This is where we all hit a wall, throw up our hands, and succumb to the flaming vehicle pile in the hopes that once we are hospitalized at least we will get the good drugs while a bunch of people around us run in circles, take our money, and try to do their damnedest to piece us back together. Instead I have grown exponentially, both as a person and a mother, met amazing and beautiful people, look the best I have ever looked, and had one new experience after another even in the face of adversity.
I have my own solution that I have crafted out of all the years of roller coaster rides I didn’t want to be on. It is quite simple really. I have to keep my eye on the speedometer. I have to slow down for the curves. This race is really the race to the very end. Passing the finish line after all the laps I have to endure only means that my race is done. So why rush through the trauma and the triumph, only to continue crashing and burning until one day I am dead? For the first time ever, I have decided I am going to flow along the tracks rather than pit them against each other. I am going to embrace my surroundings instead of keeping my eye on the prize.
What I am really trying to say is: the trauma will not tear me down and cause me to yearn for the triumph; the triumph will not get me paranoid, speed up, and aid in more trauma.
Today I am saying no to the doubts and fears, yes to the hopes and dreams, and I am staying conscious of the person I have always been. That person is intelligent, funny, and kind. That person has learned unbelievably valuable lessons that have changed her for the better. That person may be extremely sensitive but she also has learned how to harness it and direct it where it is needed most of all (and can even admit that this part is a work in progress but a work nonetheless). That person may also be covered in rock solid ice when necessary. She will continue doing her yoga and watching her weight but she will still eat a bag of Doritos and drink a beer. She will treat everyone well whether they are her best friends or the guy on the corner begging for change. She is striking that balance and not allowing anything to tear her down or blow her up. She is incredible and she is magick and she isn’t taking life too seriously anymore or she will miss all the best parts of it.
This is my duality and I intend to make the remaining years of my life the best yet. There is too much for me to enjoy and celebrate to let the things that cause me any sort of pain cloud my soul and make me doubt. All things pass. I am still here.