Three years ago two of my children were going through some life changing events, and struggling with some big challenges. Like most moms, I dove in like a fierce mama wanting to protect her children. In addition to working fulltime outside the home, I was driving to appointments, advocating for their care, playing counselor, and strong supporter.
I would go to work and take care of people all day, caring for, and advocating for their needs, and then come home and do the same for my children. I also had other children, and a husband who needed me and my time. Over period of months, I saw myself being swallowed up by my life. I was losing who I was as an individual. I slowly saw myself pulling away from friends, social events, or anything that would require me to give more of myself or time. I was trying to retain what little I had remaining.
The physical signs of being swallowed up were there. I was tired, I couldn't sleep, my weight began creeping up, and I felt hallow inside. One day I looked in the mirror and could clearly see the joy and passion had left my life. It was eaten up by taking on too many demands, and saying too many yeses. I was 30 lbs over weight and I felt so completely lost.
Fortunately I was able slowly find my way. I came back, but completely dismantled. I had developed a greater understanding of what I had lost and given up, as well as what I was hanging onto. I began to recognize and let go of the things that I was not. A stripping away of identities and beliefs that were given to me, but were not mine. Because of this, I have more clarity and strength.
This past week, my daughter confessed that she has relapsed and she needs help. As I looked at my beautiful resilient precious daughter and saw the shame, and guilt, and sadness that she was carrying on her body, I wanted to fix her. I wanted to love her into wellness, and yet I knew I couldn't. It hurt my heart so deeply knowing this wasn't my battle to fight.
A couple of days later I took off to the coast to give myself some space to breathe and take it all in. As I sat on a large rock on the beach I watched the waves lap onto the sand, and I could feel my body moving with the waves. Emotions coming in waves and waves of tears and grief. I allowed myself to feel the fear of losing my daughter as well as the fear of losing myself again in her addiction. It was there that I realized that I am not her Savior. It is not my job to save her, it is her job. My job is to save myself, which is something I was unable to really internalize and admit before. And then I reminded myself that to try and fix her, was to assume she was broken or incomplete in some way. I knew that wasn't true. She is perfection. She is everything she needs to be to save herself.
I came home sad, but also feeling lighter. I had once again let go of things that are not mine. I had left the that old identity of trying to save others on the beach and allowed the water to wash it away. Today, when I went back to work, I could feel that my life was once again trying to swallow me up, demanding of me that I give and give. I came home mentally, physically, and emotionally tired. But I walked my tired body upstairs and changed my clothes and laced up my shoes to work out. As my heart pounded and my lungs and legs burned, I could see the deeper meaning of this workout. With every movement, and every breath, I was saving myself.
I would go to work and take care of people all day, caring for, and advocating for their needs, and then come home and do the same for my children. I also had other children, and a husband who needed me and my time. Over period of months, I saw myself being swallowed up by my life. I was losing who I was as an individual. I slowly saw myself pulling away from friends, social events, or anything that would require me to give more of myself or time. I was trying to retain what little I had remaining.
The physical signs of being swallowed up were there. I was tired, I couldn't sleep, my weight began creeping up, and I felt hallow inside. One day I looked in the mirror and could clearly see the joy and passion had left my life. It was eaten up by taking on too many demands, and saying too many yeses. I was 30 lbs over weight and I felt so completely lost.
Fortunately I was able slowly find my way. I came back, but completely dismantled. I had developed a greater understanding of what I had lost and given up, as well as what I was hanging onto. I began to recognize and let go of the things that I was not. A stripping away of identities and beliefs that were given to me, but were not mine. Because of this, I have more clarity and strength.
This past week, my daughter confessed that she has relapsed and she needs help. As I looked at my beautiful resilient precious daughter and saw the shame, and guilt, and sadness that she was carrying on her body, I wanted to fix her. I wanted to love her into wellness, and yet I knew I couldn't. It hurt my heart so deeply knowing this wasn't my battle to fight.
A couple of days later I took off to the coast to give myself some space to breathe and take it all in. As I sat on a large rock on the beach I watched the waves lap onto the sand, and I could feel my body moving with the waves. Emotions coming in waves and waves of tears and grief. I allowed myself to feel the fear of losing my daughter as well as the fear of losing myself again in her addiction. It was there that I realized that I am not her Savior. It is not my job to save her, it is her job. My job is to save myself, which is something I was unable to really internalize and admit before. And then I reminded myself that to try and fix her, was to assume she was broken or incomplete in some way. I knew that wasn't true. She is perfection. She is everything she needs to be to save herself.
I came home sad, but also feeling lighter. I had once again let go of things that are not mine. I had left the that old identity of trying to save others on the beach and allowed the water to wash it away. Today, when I went back to work, I could feel that my life was once again trying to swallow me up, demanding of me that I give and give. I came home mentally, physically, and emotionally tired. But I walked my tired body upstairs and changed my clothes and laced up my shoes to work out. As my heart pounded and my lungs and legs burned, I could see the deeper meaning of this workout. With every movement, and every breath, I was saving myself.
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