Strength...it's never too late to find your power.

My bucket post really got a huge reaction.  It took me two days to get through the messages and emails that came after that post.  I answered every one of them by the way.  The love and support that came from you overwhelmed me.  Thank you to each and every one of you for your kind words.  Even 10 months after starting my blog, I still get messages filled with love and support and people (some I know, some I don’t) telling me they can relate and they are inspired by what I write. It’s incredibly uplifting. 

The one word that wove its way through every text and message I have received was “strength”. 

So many of you have told me you admire my strength.  Many of you wish you could find the source of your own strength. 

I think it is important for my readers to know, my strength did not appear overnight.  It requires daily intention, focus and persistence.  My kids provide me with strength every single day.  However, this is not what this post is about.  My kids, my family, my friends, all actively fan the flames of my strength, every single day.  This post is about the ugly side of actually reclaiming power.  It’s for all of you who are struggling and need hope that yes, you can find your way back.

Because I am always honest in my writing, I am going to share my struggle finding strength.  I want my readers to know that my strength came from the depths of a very dark place. What happens in the darkness of change isn’t always pretty so I want my readers to know that the positive, strong person I am now, required work and alot of it.  So, for those of you struggling finding your own strength, read on.

At the beginning of my new life as a sinlge woman, it felt like I was hardly coping, that I was stuck in a dark place of fear, pain and confusion. Externally I seemed to be managing.  I went to work, took out my trash, got my kids to school, but that’s about it.  I was going through the motions and did just what was necessary to make it through the day. 

I didn’t eat, I slept on average 3 hours a night and lost about 20 lbs in the first month from stress.  It was a time of hopelessness, fear and sadness.  Sleep came only after the nightly sobbing ceased and my body and mind had taken over and forced rest.  I still don’t sleep well, and am patiently hoping that will come with time. 

Once I came to the realization that my marriage over, I turned to therapy.  Even though couples therapy wasn’t an option, I made the decision to start and continue with therapy on my own. It was a solid start to reclaiming my power.  My therapist gave me insight, tools and encouragement.  He was an extremely important part of my healing process.  A small spark of strength started here, because going to therapy and gasp, admitting you are in therapy, is not an easy thing to do. 

Regaining my strength came from the knowledge that I needed to retreat.  I spent about 3 months locked up in my family room, on the couch watching Criminal Minds marathons.  Seriously.  If I wasn’t working, and the kids were either in bed or not home, I was in pajamas on the couch.  It wasn’t pretty, but it was necessary.  This was how I needed to cope and that’s ok.  This “hibernation” fanned my spark into a small flame.

I couldn’t go grocery shopping in my small town for about six months after he left.  I wanted to avoid meeting anyone I knew, I wanted to avoid remembering that we always shopped together, I wanted to avoid the questions and the looks of pity.  I wanted to avoid the familiarity of it all.  I actually would drive 20 km from the city I live in to do my shopping just to accomplish avoiding all of it.  Very few people know that once I actually started shopping at my grocery store in my own city again, I left my cart full of groceries in the middle of the store more than once and sat in my car and cried.  Finding courage to finally face the people in my small town, gave my little flame of strength what it needed to keep burning.

I am going to share this next bit of my journey because it’s something that people don’t want to talk about.  Taking medication for any kind of depression is still seen as weakness, no one wants to talk about it and frankly, I am tired of hearing how perfect everyone’s life is.  The fact is, that’s bullshit.  We all have “stuff” to deal with.   Can you imagine how freeing, how supported you would feel if we weren’t so afraid of being judged and we actually shared our struggles?  So, I think it’s important that my readers know that there was a point early on in my separation I was so over medicated that I couldn’t even care for my kids.  There are actually 4 days that if  I hadn't been told after the fact, I wouldn't have known where my kids were or who took care of them.  Thankfully I have an amazing network of family and friends who came to my rescue.  After too much time in a medicated fog of fear and pain, and the realization that I was one more prescription away from being hospitalized, I decided that I needed to feel what was necessary in order to move forward.  I was fortunate and with therapy and sheer stubborness, I did not need medication to climb back into the light.  I am a minority, I realize this.  Medication has its place in people’s lives.  I am not denying that.   Accepting that I needed medication, accepting that it wasn’t working for me and accepting that I could not hide from the pain, fanned my small flame of strength into a burning fire.

I suffered from panic attacks…a lot of them.  Once I realized what they were and that I wasn’t actually having a heart attack, I could manage them.  My strength came from knowing that I could work through an attack and be ok. 

Music provided and continues to give me strength.  It puts your confusion, sadness, fears, disappointment into words that you can’t seem to find otherwise.  Music gave me strength so many times. 

Life is unscripted, which means you’re guaranteed to be thrown into situations that are hard.  They are, quite simply, a test of your heart.  At some point, these situations will lead you to finding your strength.

I had a choice to either roll over and wallow in regret or get up and find a way to heal.  I got up. I decided that enough was enough.

I know that it’s absolutely necessary to take the small steps.  If you take the small steps, with time, you’ll look back and be amazed at how far you’ve come.  Once you can see how far you’ve come, your strength to move forward builds. 

I do believe that people are strong enough to endure the struggles they are faced with. Sometimes situations force us to create strength out of scraps what’s left of us. I think everybody has the capacity to rebuild themselves after falling apart, but it’s hard and it’s painful and in the end, it’s freeing.

I finally realized my fate is in my hands. I realized I am in control of my journey.  I had the answers I needed, I just need to be still long enough and listen. The universe always gives you the answers.

Embrace the struggle. Let it shake your core. Feel scared and weak. Feel vulnerable.  Accept that sometimes you don’t know what to do. Listen to your own soul and reflect. In your fear, you will discover your strength and power. Stay strong and fight back. Don’t let the fear overtake you.  Anything worth having is definitely worth the fight.  A life full of joy and peace is worth the fight.  It won’t always be a struggle.  Just believe.

With a full heart, I am thankful for where I have come from, all I have and for the things I have yet to discover.    

Today is the day I stop looking back because I absolutely want to keep moving forward straight into the amazing life that’s waiting for me.