I’ve spent my life running. Mostly running away. Sometimes running towards something. When my anxiety spikes and that fight-or-flight mode kicks in, I run. When things are going great and there is something to work towards, I run.
It’s good and bad. Lately, it’s been bad. I’ve spent the last two weeks running from myself.
I’ve been in therapy for a year working through a bunch of different shit. Months ago I found out some shit about childhood. I believe that is when I began shutting down, withdrawing. I’ve been falling into the dark hole of depression for a while now. I thought I couldn’t get any deeper, but I did.
Some hurtful shit went down after a slow-moving downward spiral. Some people who are dear to my heart made some low, selfish, and hurtful choices. My anxiety took control of everything.
I ran hard and fast. I was gone in the blink of an eye. And I was determined I would never go back. I didn’t realize I was mostly running from myself. I left my place of residence with a few measly bags and vowed to never return. I didn’t care about it anymore.
When I went back a couple days later to grab a few more odds and ends I was faced with the empty shell of what my life had become. There was all my stuff. All the family things. All the toys, furniture, crafts, etc. I couldn’t handle it. It didn’t feel like home.
I left again. I stayed gone for two weeks. Two chaotic and crazy weeks where I missed work, meals, and life in general.
Life changes in the blink of an eye. People are capable of change. Anyone can come back from anything, so long as their heart is changed for the better. Sometimes it takes losing everything to realize what is really important. I saw all those things and I realized they were replaceable but the love from the family that used those things was not.
I don’t know what my future holds. But I know running isn’t helping me right now. I’m a parent with responsibilities. These last two weeks of running I tried so hard to throw it all to the side because I didn’t know how to process and cope.
My truth is still my truth whether you believe it or not. I constantly find myself in the midst of misunderstanding. People look at my life and situations and tell me what they would and would not do, how they would and would not feel. They tell me what I should and should not do and how I should and should not feel.
Understand this: I do not need your acceptance or understanding of my life.
Through a lot of trial and error I have found that my heart and the love I have is not easily equaled. I have realized that where most people would pass judgment and walk away, I seek a deeper understanding and possess forgiving qualities. I am capable of unconditional love. Doesn’t mean it is easy and without hurt. Love encompasses everything, every emotion and feeling.
When I rise up from the ashes of my pain, I will be an even better person, with an even bigger heart. And I hope to be holding the hand of the man whose heart equals my own.