this post sucks.

Fear. That seems to be a common feeling these days. Only I just realized that it’s one of my own as well. And major events in the world right now aren’t even the main cause. Though they aren’t helping.

I was on this journey where I was going to try and be more vulnerable and just be. Remember I wrote that blog post about that. Just being where I am. Well, I quickly fell off that bandwagon without even fully realizing it. With so much going on, it just never felt like a good time to share. And then I realized there will never be a good time. And sometimes because of that fear people never share and then it’s too late. Last time I wrote I was in a rough place. Shortly thereafter my doctor advised switching up my diet again as my body was just reacting to everything I put in my mouth essentially. But the whole thing felt absurd and a little out there. So I mostly just kept it to myself, not wanting to talk about it. Fear of judgement. Not wanting to hear another opinion about it. I just want to feel better. That’s all. I was angry. Confused. Sad. I probably even cried. And then after a few days I got on board fully and just set my mind to what I needed to do.

It helped. I could feel a shift happening. Then, I was exposed to mold again. Surely it wasn’t going to be a big deal though, right? Says the person whose past would indicate otherwise. Denial. I just kept going on my merry way. Working, momming, teaching, doing house projects, bookkeeping, and so on. I just kept piling it on. Helping my kids deal with their emotions while trying to bury mine. Not always, but sometimes. There just wasn’t much space for me. I used the spaces for deep breathes. “Just keep it together, Ashlee.” There were always enough milestones and things to look forward to to keep going. Just make it to this point and then you can take a break. Everything is fine.

The thing is, stress is obviously hard on anyone both physically and emotionally. I felt like I was bordering on managing okay-ish considering the circumstances. And then I blamed my disintegration on it completely. But in reality, the mold is not so forgiving whether there is stress or not. I noticed some symptoms. Brushed them aside. Kept going. Noticed a few more things. Ugh, this kind of sucks. Kept going. Maybe I’m doing something wrong. Adjust. Kept going. It’s completely taken over. I surrender. I’m at the edge of the cliff and all the weight of everything is getting too heavy. The cliff is surely going to start to crumble.

And maybe if I hadn’t let fear win and just let someone in it might have helped. Or maybe it wouldn’t have. Sometimes the fog and the thoughts suffocate my voice to the point that I don’t know what to say. And I’m just scared. And sad. And lonely. And weak. And tired. So so tired. I feel like it must be my fault somehow, so I feel guilty. It’s not true, but it’s hard to not get sucked down that path.

I want to quit sometimes, but I can’t. I have too much to give. And still so much to be grateful for.

Just know I still count my blessings every day and there is a plan. This post sucks and I know it. I will write a better one a different day. Maybe it will have sunshine and rainbows in it.

 

Love,

Me