Dear Heart of Mine…


Dear heart,

You messed up. You had a really bad morning, and it’s crept into your afternoon. And knowing your typical routine when this happens, it will likely leave you feeling exhausted for the rest of the day; if not another day or two of possible heartbreaking self blame and hatred. With that, it’ll be mixed in with a lot of guilt over feeling such things. …Or, this is what has always happened before.

You took an innocent worry – and as the cycle goes –  you twisted it into something negative and horrifying that left you feeling empty and worthless and like you didn’t matter to those you love most. You feel sick to your stomach. You’ve been working on self love, and preaching about all the growing you’ve done, but yet you slipped. You went back to believing that people just don’t have any sense of care or love for you – because why would they?  Some days, my dear heart,  you are just so exhausted with your irrational brain processing habits and you assume everyone else is just as fed up with you as you are with yourself. And you just want to beg those you’ve hurt to forgive you because you would never mean to toy with someone that way, and it hurts you even more knowing you have that capability – and that you have affected people by holding on too tightly, and effectively pushing them away.  For this I feel a tremendous amount of sorrow. And to those I’ve done this to – I am incredibly sorry.

Foolish heart, how could you possibly let this get the best of you again? Couldn’t you see your thought process being twisted and wrung by the hands of fermented chemicals in your brain? Chemicals that were once sturdy and pure and meant to keep you stable and balanced.  They have always been in control of your ship. A ship that was once strong, and smooth sailing, bow aimed towards the sun. But somewhere along the lines they were poked and prodded at for too long;  as even the strongest of ships can only handle so many storms before it breaks down and begins to sink. And all you’re left with doing is surviving.

But I’m no longer just surviving. I’ve found myself back on my feet, and am doing better than just getting through the days. I find joy in them. I’m finding things I love. I see beauty in things that I never saw before. But I’m not perfect. This will take months of practice before I’m able to control my thoughts from twisting. Months before I can be confidant enough in myself to know that I deserve the love that people show me. Months before I can love again without fearing that people will want to leave. Unfortunately, that’s just not where I am right now. I don’t have to like it – it’s not something I’m proud of or that I admire in myself. Far from it. But I need to understand that this is where I am right now, and  accept it, and be okay with it.

So…  Dear heart,
This is me reminding you to to be kind to yourself, and remember that you’ve made more than half the journey already! And that you have so many people rooting for you, who are happy to remind you of all the reasons you are important, and why they believe in you.

I’m learning to be patient and to forgive myself more and more each week. It’s not easy and I still really fail at it more than I care to admit. Frankly, I suck at a lot of this “being almost better” stuff!! Especially when life itself has it’s ups and downs to deal with on top of your own. So I start feeling like I’m supposed to be better, only to get smacked in the face by a brick wall of self doubt and anxiety all over again. But I see that as time passes, this happens less frequently and it hurts less every time. I see that slowly this will give me the strength I need to take this little raft I’m floating on, and build it into the ship I’ve always dreamt of.   Be gentle, my heart. You are wonderful, and strong, and so so worthy of waking up to singing birds, love that will be there for you unconditionally,  and sunny skies, and  all things beautiful and good. You are good, and  things will get better.


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