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.