Clear Eyes. Full Heart.

**Disclaimer: no one freak out. I'm okay. Really. Just want to shed light on a yucky time and how I'm working on digging out.**

It's one thing to self destruct.
It's a completely other thing to watch others watching you self-destruct.
It's an even weirder thing to indulge in self-destructive behavior, recognize said behavior, recognize others recognizing it in you...and not caring.

December was probably the hardest month of my life to date.

I really hate making statements like that because I feel like I'm just setting myself up for disaster, but it was pretty awful.
Between losing my job, being unemployed, the holidays and trying to figure out what the fuck I'm doing with all areas of my life now....let's just say I wasn't dealing well.

After I wrote my last post, I spent the next few days in a weird place.
I don't even know how to describe what it's like to be so oblivious to how much of an emotional wreck you are.
I don't know how to describe how I didn't even recognize the state of absolute denial I was in.

I thought the day I lost my job was the worst...then Christmas rolled around.

It was a good wake-up call for me.
I can't keep in this pattern of 'feel-don't want to feel-drink/distract myself to sleep-wake up-start feeling-do it all over again. '

This is not how one positively recovers from an emotionally traumatic experience. If anything, you are just delaying the inevitable.

I don't think I was depressed. I don't think I'd given up completely. I think I was simply delaying my feelings because when you allow yourself to be open to dealing with your feelings and you stop masking them with distractions (pretty much anything self-indulgent), you get real sensitive.

Let's fast forward to New Years.
I actually had a great New Years Eve. I spent time with some new and old friends, danced a lot, laughed a lot and generally just had a blast.
On New Years Day, I went to see Wild at the Fleur Cinema with a friend visiting town.

If you haven't read Wild or seen the movie, you are missing out.
First of all, the book is amazing. Cheryl Strayed's writing style is raw and real. She doesn't withhold details or try to paint herself in any kind of light other than who and what she is. I admire her bravery in sharing intimate and possibly regretful details of her life. In a way, I understand her need to put it out there, to confess those things she's done she's not proud of. Someday, when I care less than I do now, I'm going to write a memoir about this time of my life. The good, the bad and the ugly....

Anyway, I went to see this movie with a friend of mine. I had already planned to go by myself because T and I had started a tradition of going to the movies on New Years Day, but my friend offered to tag along.

Reese Witherspoon was amazing. She portrayed Cheryl so well and there were so many scenes that felt reflective of my life as of late. I could relate on so many levels.
I think I cried for about half the movie, although I tried really hard to keep it together. I was in public and really didn't want to add to my list of embarrassing moments over the past few weeks.

The movie ended and we left.  I told him it was good to see him, gave him a hug and then practically ran to to the car.
I knew I was about to start crying uncontrollably and didn't want to lose it in a packed parking lot of movie-goers.

I cried the whole way home. And when I got home, I cried for about 2 hours straight.
It was overwhelming emotion. It was like all the feelings for the past 4 months were just coming out at once.
It was cathartic in a way.

I have barely shed a tear since September.  I've told everyone over and over that "I'm fine" and smiled my way through it. I don't know what is a healthy amount of times to cry in a year, but it felt like something that was really overdue.

I tend to over analyze my feelings and where they are coming from and what they mean. These past few months, however, I had been purposely avoiding that. I'd been stuffing and masking and erasing and trying pretty much anything NOT to feel. Avoidance felt like a safe place.

Then, just like that, something reminded me it is inhuman not to feel and I was finally able to let it go.

I still don't know how I feel about everything that has gone on in the past few months.
I think I got a little lost for a couple months.

Parts of me seemed to just fall off. Things I enjoyed and cared about seem to just slowly slip away. I don't know how to describe how I've felt of late. It's so strange to realize that I completely discarded stuff I really love. Not because I don't love it anymore, I have just had such a lack of feeling about anything. I've felt clouded and empty. I've felt a lack of connection to my spirit. It's painful to feel so removed from parts of myself that used to be really important to me.

I made a promise to myself that this year I would work on finding that again.

Now I feel like I'm looking at all the pieces of me lying around and I'm slowly picking them up. I'm re-examining each one to see if it's something I want to keep or leave discarded as part of the past. I'm growing new facets of me too.

Everyday I get a little closer to getting back to me.

Clear eyes. Full heart. 

It's a motto I came up with to remind myself of who I am.
I've had a clear purpose for the person I want to be. I'm a person who is passionate about life. I'm a person that loves a lot and is loyal and strong and determined.
I don't want to forget who I am and who I've worked so hard to become because of a blip in my story.

I've attempted some crazy, all-or-nothing goals (Banuary anyone?) , but I'm finding that now all I can do is take it one day at a time.

Instead of saying. "I'm not going to drink for a month and I'm going to eat super healthy and cut out gluten and workout every day for 2 hours and meditate and write for one hour daily, etc. etc...",
I'm saying I'm going to try to do some of those things a little. That I'm going to give myself some space and grace to figure it out. The idea of cutting out something completely or forcing something additional into an already busy schedule is just plain overwhelming.

I got some really good advice from a friend of mine, Jon.
He told me to give myself a break. Just take a deep breath and take it bit by bit. Baby steps. He said instead of doing what you always do (extremes), just Take Care.

I like that.
I like the idea of just taking care of me- however that may look.
Maybe some days that looks like sitting around a dirty apartment and zoning out to something on Netflix after I get home from work.
Maybe some days it looks like workouts and coffee dates and having a beer with a friend.
Maybe it looks like making a cup of tea, putting on some music and writing in my journal.

All I know, is it looks like giving myself space to think and feel.
It looks like recognizing this hole I have inside and not stuff it full of anything less than something good.
It looks like seeking the things that fill me with light and love and allowing the past to be the past.

It looks like clear eyes.
It looks like a full heart.

I got this fortune the Sunday after New Years. I believe in signs.