What a beautiful, blessed Monday.
I’ve worked in and on the yard all day, and my flowers are planted and mulch is down so my heart is happy.
The roosters cornered Alvi in the coop today and tried to eat her, so they desperately need a new place to go. Don’t worry, Brett and I were close so no damage was done, she’s totally fine.
We had a fire and some good friends with their kiddos over for dinner and an evening outside. Nothing beats a good time with good friends, unless you take that and add a glass of wine or two. Life gets hectic and crazy, leaving little room for me to see some of my people, but I think that makes the get together all the more sweet when it finally happens.
The kids (Brett included) are all sleeping soundly and I indulged in a couple episodes of my new favorite show just to wind down a little. I’m exhausted, but also still addicted to this darn series.
As the days pass from the incident where my parenting was taken into question, I can feel myself moving away from the situation. Do you remember the container I created with the help of my therapist? Guys. It works. It really works. I need to do better at acting quicker when something happens and getting it into the box, instead of doing my usual and reacting on the spot.
There have been a small handful of things that I’ve put into my container so far, including something from nearly 9 months ago. Instead of these things haunting my mind, disrupting my sleep and my days, my attitude is slowly improving and I don’t find myself dwelling on what happened. These moments aren’t upfront and in my face anymore, playing over and over on repeat. I can get through the day without spouting off at the mouth about how these situations make me feel. These struggles I'm working through are actually staying in my nifty, comfy, air tight container and not maintaining control of my actions.
I won’t lie, my attitude has still sucked the last handful of days. I’m working on it, but I’m also at a loss. Because I honestly don’t know where it’s coming from. People say that therapy can be an uncomfortable thing, and that some may want to stop. I’ve never understood that until now. How could someone want to stop getting better and healing their wounds? Honestly, it feels as though working on some things is triggering others that I’m not even sure what they are. It’s complicated and difficult to explain, but I can feel it in my bones. I don’t think there’s anything overly traumatic that I‘ve been completely blocked from remembering, but I do believe something inside me is unhappy about the work I’m doing to unwire my survival brain. The work is only beginning, and this just means I’ll have to do better at keeping my mood and attitude in check.
God’s got this, and I know that when this is over I’m going to be able to reconnect entirely with my children in the ways that I long for, my wounds will be scars I can talk about safely, and I can be a light for those who aren’t sure that seeking help is something they want to do.
Don’t leave yourself in the dark. Regardless of anything anyone has ever told you, you are not broken. You don’t need fixed. You need healing, love, understanding, kindness, grace, and acceptance. You can do this. I know, it’s hard. I’m working through it firsthand and somedays I’m not sure how I’ll make it, but I put my trust and hope in my faith and I keep moving towards healing. Everyday I can feel some sort of improvement, and no step, even the smallest baby step, is too small to count.
Tomorrow will be better.