Feeling your hard feelings

Today, 9/11, is a day that won’t ever be forgotten, especially not by those of us old enough to hold distinct memories of the towers crashing down. I remember where I was when I finally saw the images on TV and the complete and total silence of the classroom, everyone holding their breath as if to not breath in the smoke billowing on the screen. I feel the horror and the loneliness and the fear that lived in me that day, and the collective memory of all those who mourned and are mourning the tremendous loss that happened that day.

I also remember that one year after the attack, when my dad died from cancer, we had to push back his celebration of life one more day because of the 9/11 memorial service happening where my dad’s celebration was going to be. I remember feeling both incredibly disconnected from the pain around me and so choked with anger and loss that I could barely breathe.

And every year, like clockwork, these memories come back up. Some years they hover, threatening rain but never doing anything more than spitting. Other times, they roar in, a massive train barely staying on the rails that screeches to a halt with a rattling crash that means it’s going to be awhile before it’s pieced together enough to be on its way. My least favorite is when it winds itself deep into my chest, squeezing, tightening until I’m trying to remember to breathe, snapping at those I love, and struggling to get unstuck, not even realizing that’s how I feel in the first place.

Why, you might ask, am I talking about this stuff? Because it’s necessary.

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Chronic illness and dealing with it "the right way"

I debated how to share what I've been working through these last several weeks so without finesse, I'll share:

I mentioned briefly in my first post that I would be sharing out how I focus on being a creator while dealing with a chronic illness. These last several weeks included several jarring realizations for me about the chronic disease I experience, and the overall health of my body. 

Art, titled Lacking, courtesy of TheraPaint

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Fear, excitement, and the stories we tell ourselves

My mom once told me that she read an article on the concept of anxiety and excitement. The gist of the article was that the physiological symptoms of anxiety are the same as excitement. Your breathing increases, your heart rate increases, your palms get sweaty, and your pupils dilate. The significant difference is in how our brain interprets those signals. 

I remembered that this morning while I was sitting in front of my laptop at a total loss of what to write. Instead of being able to free flow write like I normally do, I've been staring at drafts of blogs that I've collected over the last few weeks and rejecting them, opening blank documents and closing them, and generally feeling frustrated with my inability to write this post. 

Art, titled Alia, courtesy of TheraPaint

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Why start a blog? And about what?

Have you ever wanted to do something but feared failure so you never got started? That was me. Then I had a life coaching session where I had my mind blown when I envisioned what my authentic life looks like (more on that in future posts). And a key part of what I wanted to do? Start a blog. 

So, here it is. My inaugural blog post. After I hemmed and hawed about starting a blog for years, I'm finally doing it. 

Art, titled Journey, courtesy of TheraPaint

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