Unraveling

I have had to fake OK for so long now, out of a necessity for survival, that my soul feels like it’s crumbling. Like, in moments, I feel so irretrievably wounded and confused. This blog was never intended to be an outlet for my over-dramatized, late night confessions…it was meant for displaying the healing process I was experiencing through the somewhat resurrected practice of drawing in my little, repairing world. Now, I’ve spent so many days and nights without the time or space to continue to heal, only to be broken more.

The truth is, in most moments, I have no idea how this happened. Have no idea how or where to express my loss. No clue how to communicate my confusion or no way to clear up a year (or two or five) of sometimes seemingly blur.

It has become exhausting to experience both total joy and fulfillment (even short-lived) and total heartbreak all in the same day…over and over again. It is draining to both love and hate the same things, the same people, all in one breath. (But the opposite of love is not hate, it’s apathy, right?) Sometimes, I wish it were apathy I could find. My mind and my soul have no answers for where to make clean breaks or where to hold closely and tightly. And it’s the moments in which I finally get space and breathe that I am shockingly reminded that I am alive…that I am existing…amongst this blur, and the realization feels too painful to acknowledge.

As usual, I’ll walk away from this blog writing and throw rocks at my intentions, my communication of these overly-dramatized statements, and wish I’d never been honest with how I was feeling, even if only in this moment. And tomorrow, I’ll love myself and the world again and forget that I even said them or wonder why I even felt this way.

My boss told me yesterday, out of total wisdom, grace and her typical genius, that you have to allow yourself to have bad days. Reminded me that some days, I get to be sad. Others, I get to be an ass…that I can lose my filter and be blunt about how I’m feeling, what I’m experiencing. She, a day earlier, remarked on how intentional I was about everything…that the “Love Wins” bumper sticker on my car, of course, likely had a story…a case for my intentionally placing it there…the same way that the same word on my wrist has a story…a purpose and a continual intentionality—an ever-evolving yet continually-solidified meaning.

But I wish, for just a brief period of time, I would allow myself the grace to be unintentional. That I could let go of everything easier.

Love deeply. Hold loosely, Brandi.

Lessons are painfully, heartbreakingly learned. Fought for and failed on. Stumbled around and succeeded in.

I fight with believing that things could and should be so much simpler. That nothing is as serious as I make it out to be. But the losses are real, and I must grieve that in order to take a step forward. I have to question whether it’s worth it to continue to fight over whether things should be what I believe is right and better, or accept them how they actually are…at least for today.

Tonight, the bottom line is that—when I’m honest—I’m confused and hurting. Angry…furious even. And taking steps back to acknowledge those things feel dangerous and exhausting. I’m afraid, however, that my avoidance of them has only prolonged them, and it’s simply time to allow myself the grace of unraveling.