chasing sunshine.
My life. It’s a bit like trudging in the snow. Sometimes it feels cumbersome and challenging. Where your feet feel heavy and it’s more work to take steps. And sometimes you stop and let it take your breath away. And other times you’re like a child and break to play in it.
No one has ever claimed life to be easy, but there have been moments in my life where it did feel like things were too easy. I had everything I needed, I was surrounded by love, I felt whole, and life moved along its merry way. I sometimes told Ben that it felt too good to be true and I was certain there was hardship in store for me in the future. I was right. I didn’t say it to be negative or a skeptic or to be bitter. I just felt it at my core, an intuition you might say. You can roll your eyes and then tell me it’s a vague thing to say because everyone faces hardships. This is true. So maybe I was wrong and it’s just the way life is and anyone could expect such a thing. I’ve also come to realize that I often just wore rose colored glasses. It wasn’t all easy, but I often buried the troubles best I could and put a smile on my face. Because that’s what I live for. The joy and the laughter. I still steal those moments as often as I can and I still choose to wear those glasses from time to time.
I’ve said this before, likely in different words. But I truly hate being down. And even more so, I hate other people seeing me down. I’ve been trying harder to not sugar coat things, be a bit more honest. It’s freeing and terrifying all the same. No matter how I do it, I just feel like a giant disappointment in the end. This feeling like I’m not enough. And try as I might to be more, I just can’t right now. I just have to be where I’m at. And even on days when I come to accept that myself, I just always fear in the back of my mind that others don’t. I know it’s completely ridiculous to be so hard on myself about it or to even care what others think, but that’s also easier said than done. I need stillness and rest. But I crave fun, adventure, doing normal life things like work and tidying the house, spending time with my kids and Ben, and being with friends. These things tug at me and I muster through some of them. Which sounds terrible, because it shouldn’t even be that way. Family is my everything and I try so hard. Oh I hope they know how much work I put into getting better to be better for them.
Somedays my head is so heavy, stuck in a thick fog. My thoughts aren’t clear and sharp, my memory is scattered, and my conversation skills lack severely. I feel pained for those on the other end of those conversations on those days (thank you for your patience with me). I want to hide and come back out when the storm has cleared so they can be with the best Ashlee, not the shite version. I try to keep it under wraps, but sometimes I give up a bit and just let them know it’s a crap time and I’m at a loss. Or I focus best I can and pray they don’t look into my eyes and see how much I’m hurting, on the verge of breaking entirely. It doesn’t seem to make sense and is incredibly hard to understand it all. The explanation feels so lengthy and often times I just don’t have the words to explain or I honestly just don’t know. My body is entirely too sensitive to the world at the moment. I wish it wasn’t and I could take that away. It feels like it must be my fault somehow. I try to reason with that, that I did something wrong, and you all have reason to be disappointed in me. But I didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m likely not doing everything right either. It’s somewhere in between, because I’m human. I’m doing the best I know how. I wish that felt like enough. Don’t give up on me. And please don’t leave. It will get better, there will just be some dips along the way. If I’m in a feel good moment, please just go with it. It must not be wasted, because it may only last an hour or so. If I’m going full out, it’s probably safe to remind me to reel it in to avoid aftermath. I might pout about it, but it’s for the best. And if I’m visibly struggling or you sense I’m not okay, just be kind. Remind me how far I’ve come and how determined I am. It too shall pass. I truly hate saying I can’t do things. When I have to say it out loud it’s like something dies inside of me. If I look pained when I tell you I can’t eat something or can’t go out or stay longer, just know that I am and I don't like my response either. I don’t want to say it, because then I feel like I’ve failed and I have to explain it and I don’t know how sometimes. Just know that I want to do all the things with sunshine radiating from my face.
Ben and I went on vacation recently. And I wanted a lot of what I just stated… to do all the things and radiate like the sun. There were definitely moments of that. And there were moments where I felt terrible, but pushed on and gave myself away to the fresh air to let it carry me forward. And sometimes it did just that. I’d breathe it all in and just be. Ben planned very carefully around my illness. I don’t like that he has to do it, but sometimes I don’t think he minds. He finds ways to fulfill what he wants to do while respecting what I can’t do. We’ve found a rhythm in it over the years. And we, of course, both pray that gradually I’ll get to do more on each vacation to come. In fact, I think we both agree that this trip to Asheville I was much healthier than the last one. We got to mid-vacation and had a wonderful day planned. I slept terribly the entire vacation, which was the opposite of what I imagined. I mean there were no kids and no responsibilities… all this freedom to sleep! And there I was skirting by with not enough. Anyhow, Ben and I rented bicycles on this day… we envisioned this magical leisurely ride around the Biltmore Estate. We had intended to get e-bikes to make life easier, but they were out. So we took what they had and ventured on. We started out and were quick to realize it wasn’t going to be quite as magical as we thought. The trails we wanted to ride were bumpy gravel, which was a nightmare for me personally. It pushed me over the edge to my breaking point and I just couldn’t do it. But as I stated earlier, I hate having to admit to such things. So I really tried hard to push forward only to end up in tears walking my bike up a hill. Then expressing my failure through a face full of tears to Ben… “You know how much I hate telling you I can’t do things!” Because obviously he was supposed to just read my mind before my breaking point so that I didn’t get to that breaking point. Bless his heart for putting up with me. So the bike ride ended there and I felt terrible about it because we had to pay for it and there was still more time to be had on the bikes. But he calmly looked me in the eye and told me that it was okay, we didn’t need to bike anymore and should just go to the hotel. This would have been a good moment to just let it go and move on. But I was a disaster and everything spiraled in my head from there. It was no longer about just the bikes, it was the lack of sleep, and the unfairness of life and so on. I sobbed in the car longer than I wanted to, but the tears just kept pouring out in the silence. We got to the exit of the estate, he pulled into the parking lot, held me, and let me ugly cry about all the things I couldn’t say out loud. Then he asked if I’d like to go into the Biltmore shop and wander until I felt better. I nodded and wiped away my tears. And he was right, it did make me feel better. The shop was filled with all things holiday and it filled me back up enough to smile again.
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