november journal {two} - shellshocked

It's Sunday, I am sitting here tonight on the floor -- that's where I always sit, I love the floor, and I don't know why, but here I am on the hard floor feeling rather soft in my heart -- candles are lit, a hot reishi elixir fills my mug, and once again I am called to write, and once again, I feel rusty. 

I've been sober for 321 days, that's the 1st thing that comes to mind. The 2nd thing that comes to mind is the relapse I have just come out of. I didn't relapse on a substance, I relapsed in my 'ism's'; my obsessive, controlling, manipulative, self-centered, fear-based thinking. One day I felt good, the clouds were parting, joy was entering my soul, love was beginning to fill my heart, I was finding a home in surrender, and then it happened -- relapse. I suppose I became complacent. My "work" was shelved, it became secondary -- and I justified it all in that "I'm not really that much of an addict, I did after all escape before I hit rock bottom, before it became unmanageable". It's amazing how deep self-denial runs, how convincing the stories we tell ourselves are, even when we know they are untrue. It's all to easy to believe the bullshit that comes out of our mouths -- for me that's the case anyway. 

All was becoming smooth in my life, the forest fire had rendered me totally aware that my agenda was useless, and that life was in control. The forest fire combined with the journey into sobriety opened my eyes to the power of surrender. All was becoming smooth, I was going to my 12 step meetings, I was spending morning and night on my knees in prayer, I was reading the assigned readings, and I was busy working through the steps. That's the self-care protocol that works for me, and as I have discovered, any divination away from that prescribed way of living results in a wild and uncontrollable mind; my life ceases to operate smoothly and I find myself in a constant state of disharmony, control, worry, and obsessive fear. In other words, I find myself obsessing about... well, myself. 

I think fear is one of my greatest character defects; fear of never measuring up to my potential, fear of being unworthy, fear of lack, and scarcity, fear of success -- fear of failure, fear of money (oh my good heavens, this one I could obsess on for days and days and days), fear of being left behind -- abandoned, betrayed --  fear of people being mad at me.

It's fear, fear, fear.

It's self. self. self. 

I obsess about it, and left unchecked, I can fall quickly down a deep rabbit hole of self-pity, and darkness. I suppose this can be categorized into many character defects:

perfectionism; 

fear;

people pleasing; 

self-centeredness;  

and ... control. 

I can not handle when people are mad at me, I get stuck in a loop of worrying about the tomorrows rather than focusing on the here and the now, I find the lure of darkness almost irresistible, and before I know it, I become an emotional wreck. 

I isolate, anxiety rules my mind and heart, I can't distinguish up from down, I cancel social plans with loved ones in order to hide away because the thought of being in the world pains me to my very core. 

It's total insanity. 

Unmanageability at it’s finest. 

I have known this about myself, but I have not experienced it sober. Sober is so strange, and so beautiful, and so, so, very hard. 

This is where I have been the past 2 weeks. One day the clouds were parting and life was finally becoming smooth, and the next -- well, chaos in my mind had broken out, and I was too caught up in my own stories, dramas, and denial to find my way out. I had taken back the reigns of control in my own life, and had become obsessed with micromanaging, manipulating, and controlling life in order to fulfill my own agenda, as if to say that I know what’s best for me. 

I don't.

If there is one thing I am learning in this shell-shocking journey of early sobriety, it is that I do not in fact know what is best for my soul. My agenda and life's agendas are different -- slowly but surely, I am learning to abide by life's cosmic plan.  

But of course there are the days (or weeks) that I forget to abide by life's plan, and control sneaks in, and off kilter I fall. Thank God for the humans in my life who know my subtle quirks, and can gently remind me that potentially a 12 step meeting, or a yoga class just might be good idea. They of course remind me at a great risk of my old knee-jerk reactions where my back get's up, my chest puffs out, and I become cold, distant and defensive. That happened over these past 2 weeks. It did, and looking back at it the next day with an emotional hangover at my unkind, and unloving response was humbling to my ego. It was painful to see with such clarity how my shadow side acts out. No wine to numb it, no vices to scratch my itch -- just raw, humbling, painful, clarity. This blessing of clarity results in self-awareness, and so I find myself constantly apologizing, owning my mistakes, and cleaning my side of the street. It's not always graceful, it's sort of messy, deeply vulnerable, and takes real, true loved ones to stand by me as I move through these growth pains. I feel like a teenager sometimes, it's new territory to navigate. I'm still a bit shell-shocked. 

I'm grateful for my people, I'm grateful for the ones that truly see me, truly 'get me', and have the patience and love to not only call me out on my shit, but offer a shoulder to cry on when I'm totally exhausted from this journey. 

It's hard on my ego when I hear my loved humans tell me to get to a meeting, it's painful to know that I'm an addict, it's a super hard pill to swallow. It's easy to look at other addicts and see that "their sobriety has to be placed as #1", that's easy to see, after all they have the disease so much worse than me. 

That's been my story. 

As of this past week, I have become aware that my story is wrong, a new veil has been lifted, and I can see a little more clear. 

It's painful. 

It's humbling. 

It's hard. 

December 22, 2016 was the day that I knew I needed help, I don't know why I knew it, but it was as if a voice came to me and said "Kor, it's time. You cannot do this on your own. This will kill you", and I listened. I don't know why I did -- I personally believe that it was the sheer Grace of God that saved me. I embarked on this journey, shaking in my boots, and really, really, really hoping that I was not an alcoholic. Maybe it was a phase, or maybe I was depressed, or maybe, just maybe it could have been anything other than alcoholism. 

It wasn't anything but alcoholism, it was just that: alcoholism. 

For 321 days now I have been totally shell-shocked. 321 days ago my life totally changed, 111 days into this sobriety journey everything I thought was stable burnt to the ground, and at about 298 days I had my 1st relapse, and it was so sneaky, and now that it is passing I can see with significant more clarity how it is that my mind works, and more importantly, what it is that I need to stay grounded, self-connected, sober, and spiritually fit. 

Like any self-care protocol, it's got to be tended to, without it the self withers, and for a human like me, that withering is fatal. I cannot become complacent. I know that I cannot eat food allergens; they make me sick. I know that I cannot drink alcohol; it makes me sick (mentally, physically, and spiritually). I cannot surround myself with drama, and dysfunction; they make me sick. I have learned that I require sleep, regular exercise, healthy food, supplements, and healing elixirs. I need a balance of alone time mixed in with social time. I need to create, I need to work with humans, and I need to focus my energy on being of service. 

I am now learning that there is another layer to my self-care ritual -- this is the layer that has been missing all of my life, the layer that sobriety has gifted me, the layer that withers quickly when ignored; this is the layer of trust, surrender, and the willingness to give up control. 

I know in my head that this is the step that my soul needs, trust me; I have overthought the life out of this step. But this is a step that cannot be thought of, manipulated, or adjusted in anyway. This is the step of pure faith. This is the step where I renounce the proposed agenda that I think "ought to come true", this is where I must practice -- day-today -- the motion of falling to my knees in abidance that, "God's Will Be Done". -- I'm not religious, but "God" is the easiest way for me to simply articulate this message, elaborating on this point would be an entire novel all to its own, so I'll keep it simple, and refer to my Higher Power as "God" -- I also like: Creator, Universe, Magical Unicorns, JC, Buddha, whatever, you get my point. Somewhere along the line, likely between dancing endless hours under Mother Earth's finest Burning Man Skies and feeling the sensation of love enter my heart, I became complacent in my work, and I began to (ever to sneakily) filter life with my agenda, and my hopeful manifestations. This was where the tightrope balance became tricky, and I tripped, and I fell. 

I can't articulate this journey too much more than sharing my stumbling blocks at this point. I'm still too shell shocked, speechless, confused, and also in awe, and reverence. 

Life is a strange journey, and I am grateful to live it. Sobriety is a ride, and I’m grateful to have a seat.

Today I know that my sobriety is #1 for me, I know that my self-care rituals keep me sane, and enable me to show up to the world. Today I know that my spiritual fitness is totally key to my wellbeing, without it, I am lost, and my life becomes unmanageable. Today -- although a bit bruised in my ego, and shell-shocked -- I am humbled in the greatest way by this enormous gift of sobriety that I have been given. 

Today I am living moment to moment, tonight the candles are beautiful, my elixir is now all gone, and I am still sitting in my floor. Tonight my heart is soft, open, and vulnerable. Today was a good day.

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november journal {one} -- one foot & then the next

It's been a long time since I have been on here, a long while since I have been able to articulate my emotions into words, & certianly it's been a long time since I have felt compelled to share too much of my journey.

It's simply been too confusing, too painful, too much... yes, too much is right; it's been way too much. 

I'm actually not sure what I want to write today -- my fingers feel rusty on this key board -- it's type.delete.type.delete. I know I want to write; I haven't wanted to write in months, so here I am -- writing.

Do I share my story? Do I dive deep into the reality that has been my life? Do I tell you how I have been to hell & back in the past 6.5 months? Do I share the love my heart is learning to feel? Should I tell about how scared I am, how fear comes close to paralyzing me on a daily basis? Do you want to know what betrayal feels like? Should I let you in on the trust issues that have now surfaced in my heart? Should I share with you how each & every single day right now is a battle to trust anything & anyone? Should I tell you that I thought life was going so well -- I had dreams & a 'plan', & it all seemed so sweet, so perfect -- but a life threw a match onto the 'plan', & when gasoline meets flame, the explosion is inevitable. Should I tell you about the explosion? Should I share with you the countless hours I spend in the fetal position on the floor whaling like wounded & helpless animal? Maybe you want to know that no matter how old we are, we need our mothers. My mother was my rock through this. I had Mum, my uncle & 3 of my closest girlfriends that held the deepest space I had ever known to be held, as I moved through this intense period of grief -- should I tell you how healing it is to have humans simply bare witness? Maybe I should share the night that I went to bed with the distress line open on my computer, & an emergency plan in place, becasue earlier that day I had planned how I wanted to end my life. I could see no other way. It was so messed up. I had come so far on my journey only to end up wanting it all to end.. again. Should I share with you what grief taught me? Do you want to know what her claws felt like? Maybe you want to know what gut wrenching heart break feels like as a newly sober person -- fucked up... that's how it felt. Should I tell you all about what happens to self-care when you can barley take in one breath at a time let alone plan how you will make it through an entire 24 hours alive. Should I share with you what it felt like to be walked out on? Do you want to know how sudden it all was, how shocking it was, how fucking confusing it was? Do you want to know what it was like to have the clouds part on the Wednesday morning at burning man when I went to get ice & preceded to have nothing but soul filled adventure for the remainder of my time on the playa? Do you want to know how healing it was for me to be truly seen & witnessed by a human I love so deeply? Do you want to know what it was like to sob at the temple at Burning Man -- too sob to the heavens that had got me there, too the heavens that somehow seemed to have proven to me that they cared about me. Do you want to know what it feels like to finally not feel alone? Do you want to know what falling on my knees in total surrender feels like? Do you think it would be interesting, or perhaps of value, to know how I am choosing to let the pain in my heart only act to further crack it open instead of shutting it down, & becoming jaded? Maybe I should tell you how fucking hard that is, how lonely it is, how more often than not I feel like life handed me more than I can chew. Maybe you want to know what 313 days of sober living feels like? Or maybe you want to know what the removal of alcohol has revealed to me -- an obsessive compulsive brain that requires super steady self-care to remain light & happy. Do you want to know what the light feels like? For so long I treaded the waters of darkness, addiction, abuse, lies, depression, drama, self-hatred, but one day it all changed, & the clouds parted, & I felt content for the 1st time in my whole life. Do you want to know how scary the light is? I feel like a vampire -- this brilliant light is so deeply uncomfortable -- joy is weird & bizarre, & it's a whole new way of living that I am trying to accustom myself to. Do you want to know what it is like to feel love from a human being that truly means it? One that walks the talk of love, one that is loyal & unconditional? Do you want to know how vulnerable that is for me? How uncomfortable & beautiful & frightening it is.

It's all so much. 

So much happened. 

I'm still digesting it all, I've only just begun to see this all for what it is. No words, no wisdom, no hindsight as of yet -- I'm still so fucking blown away. 

My life lit on fire. I felt like I was surrounded by flames, naked in the forest with no way out. The flames were hot, & fierce, & relentless. For whatever reason, as I stood in the burning fire of my life I chose to stay present, to ensure that I did not run, numb, or 'scratch the itch'. I knew that this was a turning point for me, that if I did not choose courage, & learn the teachings this life had in store for me, I would die. But the fucked up thing is that the courage it took to stay present -- sober & present -- nearly killed me too. I can not begin to describe the pain; the heart break was physical. It consumed every fibre, every cell, every molecule of my entire physical & emotional body, & it ached.

Seconds felt like years.

Weeks felt like eternity.

I could not see anyway out. 

My Aunt told me, "Kori you will feel good again. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day you will heal". I wanted that day to come faster, I wanted to know the agenda of grief, I wanted to find a way out. But there was no way. The only way was through. I knew this, I know the Atlas Of Darkness, I wrote a whole book on this territory; but this felt unfair to me -- I had already been to the dark, I already mapped it, why was I back there? How was this my life? Why did it hurt so bad? 

It's strange to reflect on this all, it's still all so big -- too big. It's enormous; this last chapter of my life totally recalibrate me. Life had a plan, & for some reason I was willing too cooperate this time around. I was willing, & teachable. I was ready to fall to my knees, I was ready to find faith, & humility. I was ready to let go of control & learn what "god's will" really meant. 

I learnt though this process that life's plan & my plan are dramatically different. I learnt also that life will win in her teachings. The best course of action for me became one of acceptance & surrender. I had to accept life on life's terms, & I had to find a way to let go & let this all unfold as it should. 

I still have more questions than answers. I'm mostly speechless, & deeply humbled these days. I'm not sure how I made it out alive, let alone sober. I don't know why my heart is softer now than ever before -- should this not have made me more angry? It didn't, & I don't know why.

I have come to believe that there is a great energy that rules this life, I have come to believe in the divine intelligence, & for the 1st time in my life, I have become willing to let this intelligence run my life. 

It's a very strange thing, & I wish I had more wisdom to share, but like I said -- I'm mostly just in awe. 

If there is one part of this enormous life lesson that I can put into words, it is the importance of the life motto of {one step & then the next}. 24 hours at a time; one day; one moment; one breath; one step at a time. Magical things happen when we take care of our day instead of obsessing, manipulating, & planning the bigger picture. Miracles occur when we drop our self-imposed agenda & live our life slowly & simply all the while surrendering it to an intelligence greater than our mere mortal selves.

One day I want to tell you what I have discovered about acceptance. One day I so baldy want to share with you what I learned about humility & grace. One day I want to tell you how this betrayal has not tainted my view on life, or, love, or faith, but rather, it's actually done the very opposite -- it's rendered me softer, more vulnerable, & more capable of deeper love, & meaning. One day I want to tell you all about my journey into sobriety, & what a game changing experience it has been. I want to share with you how powerful gratitude has been in my life, & how comforting it is for me to know that my soul will always find peace when my knees hit the ground & I pray. I want to express what a gift this has all been, I want to tell you how humbled I am. Why Me? I feel so lucky. So, so, so lucky. I want to tell you how deep this was, how transformative it has been, & how much I appreciate all of your prayers & support.

I want to share that, but today I don't know how. 

There are simply no words, it's just all too big. 

The enormity of gratitude my heart feels is totally indescribable. 

One day I hope I can do it justice & share it with you all.

Until then all I can do is continue to take the next best step.  

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may journal {two}

i'm 28 days into this grief, into the uprooting of my life and the burn down of what was (apparently) no longer serving me. i'm 139 days into sobriety and all i can say tonight is a giant holy fuck. life. wow. man oh man. 

so here i am. these past 28 days have rocked me to my very core in a way that i find difficult to put into words. it's sort of all a blur and yet it's also all crystal clear right down to the very 2, 419, 200 seconds that have made up these past 28 days. my life blindsided me. up until my first float on day 19, 9 days ago, i had very serious bouts of wanting to end the pain. i didn't want to scratch the itch with wine or any other vice, i wanted it to be over. i wanted to end it. this blow was simply too much for me. that is just the real hard fucking truth. i have never endured the pain in my heart as i have these past few weeks. it is all encompassing. each minute feels like a life time and there were more times that i can count where i found myself in a pile on the floor sobbing in a way i thought that the sobs would cut my air tubes off and leave me for dead. 

not one day has passed without a total heart-meltdown. no day has been easy.  

i was in panic, sheer-fucking-panic. how could this be my life? how could what i know and love so dearly not be what i thought it was? how could what i know to be true be but smoke and mirrors? how the fuck was this happening? i was sick with grief, paralyzed in panic and consumed with physical, emotional and spiritual pain. i still am. 

they say that grief comes in waves. well, for me there was no wave for the 1st 25 days, there was just a solid wall of fucking pain. there was no break, there was no chance to catch my breath. i wasn't sure i was made for this. i begged god to take it away or to take me away or to wake me or to make this different. but nothing changed. the reality remained and all there was for me to do was accept was is and find the courage to nourish my heart moment to moment.

it was torture. it still is. 

but here i am. 

a few days ago i went online and i deleted all of my words from all platforms on social media. what was the point, i thought. how much more am i going to loose by walking this path of mine? how much more can i possibly endure? i felt 'too much', too.. kori. i felt too honest, too 'type a', too busy, too plan centred, too raw, too loud, too transparent, too much. so i took it down. 

instantly upon that decision my soul screamed at me. she screamed at me the reminder of the promise i made to self years ago, that i -- no matter what -- would ever abandon self again. no matter how hard it is, i have to find the courage to be all of me, even if it is too much. these past three years of my life i have done nothing but continue to shed layer upon layer of self. i have blossomed into a fuller, more self-loving expression of kori than i ever have been. i found my voice. i found kori and i won't ever let her go, i won't ever betray her. 

i've lost alot in this process of finding me. i can not believe the destruction of this path, the pain and isolation. my heart fucking weeps for what was, it weeps for what has been lost. but the truth remains true for me: i would not do anything differently. this is my path, this is what i signed up for. healing my self and sharing it with the world is 100% my souls mission. i don't know why this mission chose me, but it did. so here i am, writing. for me this process of putting words to paper and sending them to the world feels like part of my contract, part of the reason that i am here on this planet. 

do you know how many times i have battled with wanting to exit this planet? something is fucking keeping me here and i intend to rise to the occasion. 

it's all so funny, you know, the timing of this life. right when i thought i had 'conquered the darkness' and recorded it all in a memoir/self-help book -- The Atlas of Darkness -- life rips the rug out from underneath me. she forces me back into the dark night of the soul, yet again. but this time she says "you know what your doing kori, and you have a choice here: light or dark. what's it going to be?". i was on a tightrope, darkness on one side and light on the other and with each passing moment i could feel the lure and tug of the dark. i felt her whisper in my ear and caress my hair. numbing would have felt so good. raging and shutting my heart down would have protected me from this pain. this tightrope was real for me and i had worked too hard to fall off. i was choosing love. i was choosing light and the only way i know how is through the self-care practices that i have worked on over the past 6 years. so i took every tool and every ritual i recorded in my book and i put it into practice becasue this time, for me, this was more than surrendering into the darkness, this was about choosing the light. this time i am riding this dark night of the soul without a single vice. this time i knew the map, i had the atlas, and it's working... my atlas works!

i am fucking on my knees. i am naked. i am more vulnerable than i ever have been in my life. my heart is not guarded and as i lay here bruised and shaken at the pit of this soul swamp i am expanding my capacity for faith. i am finally learning to really sit with this pain and it's transforming every cell in my body. 

i have discovered the divinity in darkness. i really have. 

its at the deepest point of sorrow, it's in the centre of the dark moments that you think you can not handle. the divinity in the darkness lays in the pain that we endure without the use of vices. it's here, but it's for the warriors who will to look deeper, it's for those who call on courage and choose with all their mite that this transformation is worth it. it's for those with faith.

this is the dark night that i have been waiting for all my life. this is the dark night that is recalibrating everything in me. this is the truest lesson in surrender that i have endured, and i am rising. i am rising to meet this excruciating pain in the eye and i am falling into her arms to let go and allow myself to be transformed. 

this is grief. 

this is the plan of the universe and one day it might make sense. today, however, it lacks all sense. i'm angry and i'm hurting more than ever before. and simultaneously i'm finding god, i'm expanding my faith and somewhere inside of me i know that this will all be ok. 

here i am, taking one step at a time, simply doing the next best thing. 

that's all i've got right now. 

may journal {i choose love}

for me writing is medicine, telling my story and sharing my feels is healing. i am honest and transparent to the very core of my being and, for me, this has always felt more than just a calling for the healing of my own heart and soul, but also a calling as part of my soul work for the world. 

writing is medicine. 

sharing my heart is healing. 

it's no secret that i have been wiped out by grief over these past 14 days, and although i still am not interested in sharing any of the details, i am certainly interested in pouring out my heart on this screen in the form of words and tears and grief and acceptance and all the human emotions that i am feeling. 

nothing has been more intense in my life, ever. 

today i am 125 days sober. a veil has lifted in my life over these past 125 days like i could not begin to describe. there are no words. just immense realizations of truth that are far beyond my human comprehension. 

over the past 6 years i entered into what i believed were my darkest days. i battled with horrible depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts. there was a darkness that i simply could not shake. i had brief moments of clarity through it all, and moments of sheer and utter love as i began to slowly but surly fall in love with who i am , and also a find a man that i deeply, deeply love. but no matter the work i did -- the spiritual work, the therapy, the runs and races and obstacle courses, no matter the prayer or writing or clients or love or, or, or, there remained a darkness for me and on december 22nd this darkness came to a peak that i knew i had to face. 

in this moment on december 22nd, i fell to my knees and i asked for help. i knew this was all beyond me and i knew i needed to face what was running my life. they say that the "drug of choice" (for me it was alcohol) is a symptom of something greater and deeper going on inside the soul. i thought i had dealt with that demon in my years of therapy, my coaching, writing, healthy eating, prayer etc etc etc etc.. but, it was still there. 

there was no ultimatum for me, no one told me that i "had to fix this or else". me getting help was 100% because i wanted it, 100% because i knew deep in my soul that something was not right. 

and so i embarked on the journey of sobriety. 

i was not graced with a pink cloud. this has been fucking hell. i did not cut the wine out to find myself lighter in thinking, clearer in dreams and wide eyed with a new found sparkly outlook on life. no, i found myself obsessive, worried, controlling. i found myself discovering painful truths and seeing all of the areas in my life that i could actually see my role, my responsibility and alas the calling to 'clean my side of the street'. 

and yet with the pain of this all, i could also see the grace in it all. i'm coming to believe whole heartedly in a power greater than myself and i am finally learning what the word "surrender" actually means. i'm cultivating faith like i have never had, and in the moments of pure and utter despair -- as i have experienced over the past 14 days -- i am finding myself choosing ... LIGHT. 

wild. i know. 

step one in my spiritual recalibration was having this soul of mine learn to surrender into the darkness and find the divinity that resided there. and i did that, i learned that. i learned that all seeds must be buried alive into the great void to find the nourishment they need to crack open and begin their journey into potential. i've worked tirelessly at this, fuck i even wrote a book about it, it's called "the atlas of darkness", and it's in my editor's hands ready to be sent out into the world. the darkness became my jam, so much so that i got the nickname of "high priestess of darkness".  i love the darkness, i respect the divinity that is to be found there. 

but now it is time for my seedling soul to sprout and choose the light. nothing has been more painful that this process. my heart shattered into more pieces than i could count as my world -- inner and outer -- came crashing down. everything i believed to be true, turns out to be smoke and mirrors. smoke & mirrors. and all that is left for me is this wild, intense, sober feeling of despair. According to Paulo Coelho in his book Brida "Disappointment, Defeat, Despair are the tools God uses to show us our way..." and so with that i am attempting to hold on tight as i move through some of the most painful lessons my soul has encountered. i'm trusting that this is all meant to be, that this wild recalibration of everything i thought to be real and honest and true will lead me to where my soul is meant to be.

for me this experience of choosing the light means that i am fully immersed in the mind-blowing pain of the life i am living at the moment, all the while falling to my knees in absolute prayer and serenity. i am walking through the moments of this grief with a tender and open heart. i am refusing to feel hardened or jaded. life had taught me softness and trust and that is what i am holding onto. i am present and not numbing out. i am listening to the moment-to-moment calls that my soul needs, like showing up to church alone on a sunday morning after not attending a service in 15 years or going to the dog park one, two, three times a day just to figure out and remember how to breathe, or laying on the floor in fetal position and crying animalistic cries for hours upon hours into the wee moments of the night. i'm facing this astronomical pain even though there have been many times over the past 14 days that it hurts so bad i thought it would kill me, and at times, wished it did. 

life is really fucked up. 

and beautiful. 

and intense. 

and raw. 

and it is what it is and we have only two choices:

Face Fear and Recover 

or 

Fuck Fear and Run. 

i choose the light. i am choosing to show up with my giant beating heart on my sleeve and i am choosing to love all the way through this. i am choosing sobriety and forgiveness and love. i am choosing light and courage. i am choosing the path of the warrior. one foot and then the next. 

i choose love. 

i choose love. 

i choose love. 

april journal {grief}

I am in the most astronomical levels of grief I think I have ever felt before. Ever. I feel betrayed and broken open at the seams. What I thought was the truth has turned out to be lies and what I thought was solid, I now know was a 'house of cards'. The wind blew and the structure came crashing down. I am at a loss for words today, all I can really articulate are the feels that are in my whole.entire.being. 

Loss.

Betrayal.

Abandonment. 

Broken Heart.

Grief. 

Grief.

Grief.

I have been sober through this whole ride and that, it seems, adds to the intensity of this entire painful process of illusions falling to the wayside. Many moments over the past week I have found myself waling like I would imagine a mother animal would wail if she lost her cub; loud, animalistic, frightening, powerful. I'm lost. All I have right now is this giant broken heart that desperately needs mending. At times I don't know how to move forward and at other times I wonder if I will ever stop crying, if I will ever heal?

I know I will. In time. 

But for now all I have are the deep and painful cries of my heart, the sore abdominal muscles I have from shaking violently in tears on the floor.

The grief, it hits me when I least expect it. Sometimes it's the mornings as I wake and realize that this is my life and I was not lucky enough to have had a bad dream. Sometimes its a night once the darkness arises and the feelings overwhelm me and other times in mid day -- in the grocery store, eating dinner, sitting in a meeting, walking the dogs. Who knows when she will hit me. 

It's very real. Very alive. Enormous pain. 

But alas, this is the nature of life and on some cosmic level it will all make sense at some point in time. And so I hold true to my ways: one foot and then the next. One day at a time all the while praying my ass off that I may have the serenity, grace and courage to move through this painful life lesson.

That's all I can do.