This last year was more than you could have imagined being able to handle. Though you may have fallen, you found your strength to rise. Your struggles and the hardships you faced in these last 365 days were not your own to carry, but you did so anyway. To say this year was the toughest I know is almost insulting to the debilitating pain and outright anguish you've endured. But in spite of many vile attempts to bring you down or out entirely, you, my friend, are still here. So, I'll call this year more of a success than you can see right now. We can dive more into that in the next post, but for now let's look solely toward the future, shall we?
May 2019 be all that you choose to make it, it's finally your time. Yeah, take a deep sigh of relief with me because this time I really believe it. May the melody in your soul return again so vibrantly that you cannot help but sing along. May it be filled with countless shameless dance parties and car rides. May the days of adventure & joy be in abundance. May the new beginnings bring consistent happiness that overshadow the sadness of this year's painful good-bye's. May you zealously fall in love with yourself all over again but deeper than ever before. May you get tangled up in your own self-love so much so that you get lost within in with no wish to become unraveled. May you both give and receive raw kindness. May you dance along with life, & may you stumble in that dance and find your footing to jump back in repeatedly. May you begin to look upward again so that you can find the beauty in the darkest of nights; Then may you find comfort in the evenings once more as you used to. May you love the moon as much as the sun and the sun as much as the moon. May your world begin to make sense again, and allow the color to bleed back in without holding back. But MRB, most importantly, may you find that electrifying magic you so boldly believe in.
As you do all of this, remember that you're healing. Remember that you had to learn to dance long ago, so you may stumble more than you'd like to at first. Remember that not everyone has the same spirited passion you hold inside of you, but that it's not a bad thing. Remember that for the right people you will never be "too much" of anything. Remember that your worth can be defined by nobody but you. Remember that your love is special and not to hand it out to just anyone. Remember that you've found your voice and you know how to use it. Remember your gifts to this earth and to use them daily. Remember that you are not your enemy, you are your friend. Remember above all to protect & feed your soul. But above all else, trust it, it'll guide you every single time. Remember that zest for life and grab onto it.
May you remember this year, but may you also forget. Forget about the things you cannot control. Forget about the moments that paralyze you. Forget once you've worked through it so that you can truly live. Forget the one's that do not matter, for they mean nothing. Forget to explain everything to everyone; you owe them nothing. Forget everything you've blamed yourself for that isn't yours to carry. Forget that weight both on your shoulders and in your heart; let it go. Forget about the shame, the embarrassment, and the self-blame. There's no room for the toxicity in 2019. It's undoubtedly going to be a rocky start, that's likely when you are surfacing through the rubble. But that's the thing, you're resurfacing. And my goodness what great timing it is. I cannot wait to see you to continue to claw you way out and rise & crawl again, get back up, to walk again. I'm excited to see you run, to take off, and inevitably: soar.
Love, the 2018 Defeated Morgan that is Starting to Believe Again
I am going to be careful as to not ruin a new year's post, but Christmas seemed to bring out it's own so I'll roll with it.
This Christmas is different for a vast number of reasons. Different is both good and bad. Different is good in the sense that it's not the same, but in that same sense, it's not the same and that can bring sadness. Last Christmas was a Christmas of tiptoeing and of turbulence. It was an anxiety fueled holiday for multiple gigantic, bone crushing what-ifs & dreadful anticipations. Last Christmas held a heavy weight on our shoulders because we wanted it to be everything and more, just in case it was the last as an entire family. & it was.
The last holiday I spent with my favorite person on the planet was Christmas. My head knew it was going to be true, but my heart wouldn't accept it. Going into this holiday I felt a different weight in my heart. I am where I am in the grieving process and that's different than most of my family. I am not at a place where I can only laugh in her memory, it still hurts too much. But for you, grandma, I am trying.
This year I am opening my heart. I am trying to live out traditions and be with family even though I don't feel my Christmas joy to the level I typically do. I have been focusing on myself and all that this last year has done to me. This means I have been out of work so I was unable to get gifts and we all know that is my favorite part. I was down and felt inadequate. Embarrassed and insecure of where I currently am in life I made a joke out of awkwardness. I stated that this year my gift to everyone is my health. Then I stopped and thought about it for a moment. Yes, this is the greatest gift I could give myself and to everyone in my world around me.
Last Christmas I wasn't fully present. I was dying from the inside out and the outside in. I felt as dead, dark and cold & numb as the ice and painful cold outside. I was falling apart bit by bit. I was weight suppressed. I was scattered and frazzled and running on fumes. I was shattering like a sheet of glass dropped so carelessly on the pavement. But I was also in denial. Let's get back to the good stuff though. This year I am not exactly where I'd like to be; let's face it, its going to take more time than I would like to heal and put myself back together. But I am no longer below ground waiting for someone to toss the dirt over me.
I am not standing tall just yet, but I am starting to believe that I can. If you know me you know I've cycled through health and relapse. You know I've stayed healthy for a great deal of time in my timeline. But this, this is different. Right now I am healthy. I am healthy in a way I have never experienced. I am healthy without any negative people or vices or secrets still hooked within me. I am healthy with the full ability to truly, wholly, completely, move onward. This is a blessing and all I've wanted even the possibility for. I have put myself out there in ways typically unspeakable to me. In embarrassing, pathetic, pitiful, excruciating ways have I put myself out there in the hopes that maybe it will lighten this heavy heart within me. Though many days I've regretted it, my goodness has is helped me. There's more light, though it's dim. I never thought it would exist again let alone shine brighter.
Doing all this work has allowed me to let go of toxic energy I didn't realize I had. Letting go of negative and unhealthy people has allowed me to love differently, honestly, truly. It's allowed people to be close to me again. I have true friends again. My interactions are genuine and authentic instead of fearful and calculated. My relationships with family are thriving. They are hopeful and eager. They are proud. But mostly the gift this year to myself is me. I may not be quite there yet, but with the right guidance I know I can continue to discover and uncover & become myself again. Maybe even truly for the first time. To have even a second of being me, it's the most incredible gift every damn time.
I miss my grandma this Christmas and every day, but I'd like to think this is her gift to me, too. The gift of getting back to living. Really living. Moving through it all so I can move forward someday. This is my Christmas ramble, who knows if it made any sense. What I know now is that I've felt every emotion on the spectrum this holiday season, and my favorite is Joy. Til next holiday season, may I remind myself to find and see the joy. It's a process.