“Mommie I really like your hair, with all the colors…It has my favorite color in it, green. That’s my favorite. Green & orange. You have those, right there and right there, right?” Awww thank you Bren Bren. Green is your … Continue reading
“This illness won’t get you…You are too strong…tomorrow holds the promise of a new day.”
My friend Kim’s words rang in my ears as I fell asleep last night, and were the first words that I heard as I awoke this morning.
The past 3 weeks have been a roller coaster ride with more loops than I’d like, some throwing my mental health off track, others reminding me of how fragile life is, as several of my friends and even my mother are facing serious health & life issues….and yet still others have forced me to face painfully abusive memories I’d rather forget, but can’t because working through them is the only way I’ll heal and be able to eventually forgive.
You are too strong….this life needs you
I woke up with these words pushing me out of bed and on my feet. I looked around at my apartment, at the mess that accumulates during my lows, and these words directed each step I took as I set to cleaning it all up.
This illness won’t get you….You are too strong….this life needs you
I repeated them, over and over while taking a shower, combing my hair, painting my nails, eating breakfast, watching cartoons with my sick kiddo….until I finally felt strong, strong enough to keep fighting and keep moving.
A friend of mine told me on Facebook this week that she doesn’t understand how I can continue to hold onto a belief in God when I’ve been through so much hell in my life. She then asked me a rather poignant and difficult question: why does God allow bad things to happen?
Not wanting to give a cookie cutter answer full of Christianese, I waited and directed the question at God: “Why do you allow bad things to happen? Why do you allow us to suffer if you love us so much? Why God? Why have I had to endure so much pain, so many rough circumstances? Why do I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle with this illness and everything else? I’m tired God. I’m just tired.”
I spent the week telling God that I’m tired of being beat down and broken, but woke up this morning with Kim’s words guiding me and an answer…or at least some kind of theory.
You might not like or agree with my theory and that’s ok….but y’all I think we experience brokenness and pain in our lives as a reminder that we are human. We like to think we’re invincible but the truth is we aren’t. What if we went through life never experiencing loss, pain, hurt, rejection, or a part of us that malfunctions and needs fixing? If we didn’t experience these things, I don’t think we would know or understand and value things like LOVE….we wouldn’t know how to be vulnerable, which would render us incapable of empathy and compassion for others. We wouldn’t know how to care for one another, and be there for each other, and be able to bear one another up in times of need. Pain and brokenness….no one wants to endure or experience either, but without them as the fertilizer, seeds of courage, hope, love, empathy, and strength wouldn’t grow in us and we would be nothing more than calloused, cold, stagnant beings.
So we experience things that challenge us…that break us…that remind us that life is fragile and to not take it for granted, no matter what hand we’ve been dealt. We only get one hand in this poker game y’all. That’s it. Just one hand and one set of chips is all we get to bet with. It’s up to us how we handle what we’re dealt.
So no…I don’t like the fact that my meds aren’t working and I need yet again to keep searching for the right cocktail. I don’t like that I have to live with a condition that renders me incapable of wanting to live at times. I don’t think it’s fair that I had to endure abuse at the hands of men who were supposed to protect me. I hate that I have to struggle my way through life….
But guess what? I’m too strong, only because I’ve endured these things and am still here today, writing this to you. I’m strong. Only because I have been hurt and broken. I am strong because I have known pain and am learning to use it as the bridge to vulnerability and wholehearted living.
I am too strong. This illness will not get me. My painful past will not keep me trapped and tangled. I won’t let it. Instead I’ll use it; to help others, to encourage and inspire, to empower those who have been through the same to overcome and choose to keep living. I’ve had bad things happen to me, but I’ll let them teach me how to treat and love my boys and others I encounter in this life.
I don’t know what you’re facing, or what you’ve had to endure in this life. But I do know that if you’re enduring it, if you’re surviving it, then I know for a fact that you are a stronger person because you experienced it. I know from first hand experience that if you spend all your time asking why, the pain will only intensify and breed more pain. Choose to use what you’ve been through to help someone else-let it teach you how to live wholeheartedly.
The hurt and pain won’t last forever. As Kim told me last night….it’s always darkest right before the dawn. So stand up. Dance your way through the rain drops. Your’e stronger than you think.
note: my video isn’t perfect..I just couldn’t get the syncing right for some reason today. so I apologize for my crappy editing skills. I hope you still enjoy it anyway.
While cleaning up the disaster zone known as my bedroom this week, I came across a notebook I hadn’t seen in a while. Curious as to what was in it, I started flipping through it and came across several entries from during & after my pregnancy with Alex. I was blown away by reading what I had written during those times and it’s very clear to me now that I definitely had some antenatal depression, which is something I wish I had the courage back then to recognize and seek treatment for. Perhaps if I had, my experience with PPD & anxiety would have been drastically different. But it wasn’t and that’s ok because I’ve learned valuable things from it, I’ve met valuable people from it, and I’m able to help others by sharing my experience, so hey at least it served a purpose right?
Something else I came across that was rather interesting and rather inspiring was a sort of contract I had written out to myself. I’m not sure exactly when I wrote it, but reading it brought tears to my eyes, because it was full of love and compassion to myself, something that was missing a lot during the past 2 years.
So, since I was inspired by what I read, I thought I’d share it with you and encourage you to make up your own Self-Love Contract/Goal sheet. I updated some of it, especially the parts about beating depression since I now have a new diagnosis.
addyeB’s Self-Love Contract
I, A’Driane Nicole Dudley, agree to do the following:
- Believe that I am an awesome person.
- Believe that I am fearfully and wonderfully made by a God who loves me tremendously
- Believe that I am a good woman, even with all of my flaws & imperfections
- Will be confident in my abilities as a woman, mother, Christian, student, writer, dancer, etc
- Believe that I am beautiful. Really.
- Battle stigmas surrounding mental illness
- Take my medications everyday
- Attend every therapy appointment unless an emergency occurs
- Read God’ word everyday, even if it’s just one line!
- Talk to God daily
- Smile at least once a day
- Be colorful-from my hair, to my clothes & accessories, to how I decorate my house…I will live in COLOR
- Will allow myself to make mistakes & give myself room to learn from them
- Be a strong, loving & nurturing mother for my boys without smothering them or inhibiting them from being who they are.
- Attain my degree in social work, a masters in counseling, and a certification in DANCE movement therapy
- LOVE myself
- Be KIND to myself
- Share my stories with others. Live wholehearted. Be vulnerable. Be open. Reach out. Advocate for others & myself.
- “Recover” from Bipolar Disorder through compliance, exercise, nutrition, a structured routine, and coping strategies.
- Dance at least 2-3 times a week.
- Love my muffin topped, overstretched, tiger striped belly…because I’m a real woman and this belly housed my incredible boys. I will appreciate my body for what’s it’s gone through and given me.
- I will paint-even thought I have no idea what I’m doing. HA!
- Yoga…lots of yoga. Only doing exercises that work with my body not against it.
I want to apologize for not having a dance video for you today….
If you read yesterday’s post, then I’m sure you can understand why I’m taking a break today.
That doesn’t mean there won’t be one next week…and the week after…and the week after that…
In fact, I have a lot of nifty things I’m working on for Dance Party Fridays this year and I’m really excited!
- Guest Dancers
- Linky tool so you can link up your own dance video
- Dancing contests w/giveaways and a chance to be featured here on ‘Confessions
- a monthly “dance party” hangout on Google +
Next week I’ll be dancing to “Moves like Jagger” for Imperfect Momma over at Really? I’m a Mom?….
It’s highly probable my two BFFs Tori & Kelsey will be joining me for a little Risky Business a couple of weeks after that…
The always fabulous Joy Tanksley and I will be dancing together…(YAY!) Seriously y’all…she’s GOOD!
And I’m already working on concept ideas for “Shake it Out,” , and “Raise it Up” by the lovely Florence & The Machine….(think scarves & ribbbons…lots of color!)
So that gives you a glimpse into what I’m planning for the year…But I need your help, friends. I need to know what you want to see! I’m taking any and all song suggestions, ideas, you name it, I want your feedback. I’m even open to doing dance video dedications…know someone who could use a smile, laugh, or some inspiration to get their body groovin? Leave me a comment here or email me your request at bconfessions(at)gmail(dot)com. And if you’re a new reader and have never seen a DPF? Well head over to the Tag cloud or categories list & watch
I’m serious. I’m looking for all kinds of songs, any genre. As long as I can move my body to it, it doesn’t have heavy profanity, isn’t hateful, and is inspiring or groovalicious in some way….IT’S ON.
So bring it dear readers. Hit me with your best shot ( Hey, another song idea!)
and now….for some “dance biscuts”
and because I’m obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance, I thought I’d show a couple of my favorites from hip hop choreographers NappyTabs, a husband & wife team
(I WISH I had their skills, UGH! Fab. So fab.)
Remember a few weeks back when I posted about the journey I’m on to make it back to my Box?
In that post, I talked about how I most of my life, what’s been in that box has been dictated by other’s, their needs, and how THEY wanted my box constructed. I mentioned that I’m not 100% sure what goes in my Box but I was starting to find out by streaking my way towards it….
Well, guess what? Dying my hair funky colors has helped me identify at least one thing that goes in my Box, one attribute that makes me, well, ME. If you really know me, it’s probably not a huge surprise, but
Color belongs in my life. It’s at the core of what makes me A’Driane. Lots & loads of color. Gobs of it, probably so much that people would label me tacky, but I don’t care anymore, I’VE GOTTA HAVE COLOR! From how I decorate my living space, to how I wear my hair, to the clothes I wear, they must have color…When it comes to fashion I’m forgoing all sorts of rules from here on out and am just wearing as many colors as possible, whatever feels and looks good. From bold eyeshadows to headbands, to scarves, to the rubber bands I place in my hair……..
Or the color that adorns my fingers and Barney Rubble toes…
I”ve just gotta have color. From my dishes to my couch, to my lamps to my bed sheets, my apartment is full of splashes of it. I’ve spent years trying to downplay and even stay away from such boldness because those around me gave me the impression that it was inappropriate for a person my age. “Living out loud” and self-expression is for teenagers & kids, not for mothers approaching their thirties…..but I’m foregoing those thoughts and ideals because they aren’t mine. They aren’t me. Dressing in normal colors and living in clean, modern, sophisticated living spaces might be for some people and that is totally ok. For me though?
Give me color or give me death is the motto I’m adopting.
I wasn’t allowed to express myself growing up, and so I thought the need to do so through what I wore or how I styled my hair was just a phase I needed to get out my system. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, and about my personality, I know it’s something more and I’m finally in a place of acceptance about it.
Being surrounded by and wearing bold, brightly hued, rich & warm colors is a coping strategy for me as well. It creates an environment for me and my boys that breathes health and life, creativity and expression. I’m hoping that surrounding us with a spectrum of color blinds the dragon of BP so it stays deep in it’s cave. I’m learning fast that mental illnesses like BP are genetic, and being as though schizophrenia and depression run in at least one side of my family, (and I strongly suspect BP runs on the other side) I want to give the boys as healthy of an environment as possible. One that breeds creativity, love & warmth. I want my boys to have that. I want them to look at me and always know that self-expression is okay. Living out loud is okay. Passion is okay. Creativity and thought are awesome and worth pursuing wholeheartedly. Splashing our lives with color is a way to do that.
So, on this Self-Love Saturday, I refreshed my blue & pink streaks in the ol’ Afro, and even added some more. I went through my closet and tossed out every drab, grey item I could find. I promised myself that from here on out, only color goes in the closet and on my body.
We only live once y’all. We only get one shot to do this thing called life. I’m determined to live mine as wholehearted and colorful as possible, Bipolar and all
It’s Self-Love Saturday so guess what we’re going to talk about today?
Have you ever gone streaking? Before today I never had. Yep, that’s right, I’m going streaking…actually at this moment I am streaking. It’s already done, so I can’t go back. Where am I streaking to? The box. My box. Let me explain…
Aside from an insane amount of schoolwork & midterms to get through this week, in the back of my mind, I’ve been pondering some things. Nearly three months after my break up, a move, a diagnosis, and starting my next round of educational pursuits, I find myself asking: ” Ok….now what? Where do I go from here?” I’m looking at my new surroundings, the new people I’m meeting, the school I’m attending, my degree program, my boys & myself, and I find myself wondering how I navigate this new terrain, and even wonder if I know where I’m going. I have a map to guide me, but parts of it are missing…or rather, parts of ME are missing & I need to get them back in order to complete my journey.
Parts of me are missing…M.I.A….hidden…..lost….buried under the tangled webs of other’s opinions & expectations. Smothered even, under layers of guilt, shame, sadness, and anger over things I’ve done and things that have been done to me. Parts of me are missing. Important parts. Vital parts. Parts that make me who I am, parts that complete the picture, complete ME.
My therapist must have been reading my mind. When I walked into her office on Tuesday & we started chatting, she asked me if I had “the boxes.” Huh? Boxes? What boxes woman? She reached in her desk and pulled out sheets of paper that had several boxes with word in them….the first box looked like this:
The other boxes had lots of stars, arrows, more words, & more lines, like this one:
And then the final one looked like this:
As I sat there staring at the piece of paper with boxes on it, she gently said to me,” A’Driane, do you know what happened to your original box?”
“You see, inside the first box is everything that is important to us, what we value, what makes us who we are…it’s US. And we place a boundary around those things. But sometimes, as you can see from the second picture, when we are involved in friendships & relationships with significant others or family members, that boundary line gets distorted and moved.”
Ok, I get that…but how do they get moved And where did the extra boxes or lines come from?
“Our boundary lines shift as we interact with those in our lives. The shifting is sometimes necessary but it can get ugly and become unhealthy very quickly if not shifted for the right reasons. You see, the more you do something that you don’t want to do, the more you do things that make who YOU are at the core uncomfortable, the more you compromise yourself for someone else & their feelings & comfort, the more your own boundaries shift, and the further away from the box you get. Make sense?”
I think so…so what I’ve been doing most of my life and in my relationships…and family is shifting my boundaries around in an attempt to get validation, love, acceptance, or anything like that?
“Yes. How do you feel knowing that?”
Well it explains why I’m angry with people….angry with my ex…matter of fact with all the men in my life except my boys.
“Do you think it explains anything else?”
It explains why I don’t have a box anymore…or if I do, it’s buried under all this other crap I’ve been doing & what I’ve been basing my life off of. I’ve been compromising myself thinking doing so would make a person change or make people change their opinion of me, but….
But it hasn’t…it hasn’t gotten me anywhere but….but feeling trapped inside all these boxes I created by ignoring my own….and being angry, hurt, & disappointed about it. Feeling lonely because of it…
“I think you know what you need to do, don’t you?”
Yep. Gotta go back to the box.
My original box. The one that houses all things A’Driane & who God made her to be. Good, bad, whatever, it’s all there. And I’ve got to stop shifting my boundaries in a way that’s detrimental to my well being. That’s not self-love, not at all.
At the beginning of the year, I didn’t make any resolutions. Instead I chose one word: COMMITMENT. That one word has been my quiet focus all year-even during my lowest moments. God told me that He will give me beauty for the truckloads of ashes I have in my life (Isaiah 61:3) but only if I would be committed to Him sweep them up & carry them away. It hasn’t been easy-it’s been pure hell to be honest. But even during my lowest & darkest moments, He would remind me of His promise, my word, & I would keep going.
Today I solidified that commitment by going streaking. I’ve always been a woman who loves to express herself through her hair. So it only makes sense that I would finally put blue streaks in my hair. Why blue? Because a group of bloggers have been going blue since last month to raise awareness for mental health & suicide prevention, and I am proud of and have been emboldened by their efforts. Because I know what it’s like to live with a mental illness. Because I want to help those who have suffered trauma, abuse, & mental illness like depression or bipolar disorder. I’m going to school for counseling, and I want to be a dance movement therapist who helps people heal & cope through movement & dance. I’m committed to ensuring my mental health is where it needs to be & to helping others do the same.
I also put purple/pink streaks behind the blue ones. To remind me & to show others that there’s always hope, there’s always LIFE, there’s always LOVE, there’s always joy behind the blue-we just have to work to see it…to live it…to be it. The purple/pink also symbolize my commitment to self-love, owning my story, & living a wholehearted lifestyle. I know I can, and I believe that the past 3 months I’ve gotten the tools I need to live it.
But in order to do that, I’ve got to get back to the box. To what makes A’Driane, A’Driane. So I can find the parts of me I’ve put away on shelves & wipe the dust of abuse, of mental illness, of mistakes, of pain, of anger, of LIFE away. So He can make me whole.
I’m streaking my way back to my box, but what about you? Is there a part of you lying in storage or up on a shelf somewhere? Something you put away because life shifted your boundaries & you never shifted them back? Do you feel trapped by all the boxes you see around you now…do you wonder what happened to yours? If so I would encourage you to take some time to reflect and take inventory…if you’re missing some parts of yourself, I’m sure you can find them again-you just have to go back to your box.
I don’t know what it is about Friday nights. We just don’t get along.
Nearly every Friday night since I’ve said I was going to start doing “Self-Love Saturdays” some craptastic event happens where I find myself struggling to either not fall into the gravity well of depression, negativity or miry yuckiness, OR I fall in and am struggling to climb out. It’s like once I put it out there, the universe or elements thereof decided to throw everything my way to see if I will stick with it.
Last Friday night was no exception. It tried my patience, I had a mild panic attack, and it ended on a pretty awful & frustrating note. Today, I woke up to find Depression sitting at the foot of my bed asking if I wanted to hang out. I didn’t answer, but that didn’t keep him from following me around, clutching my ankles, making it difficult to be motivated to move. I’ve spent my day emotionally eating everything in sight, chocolate cupcakes included and although I have a mountain of homework to do, I can’t concentrate on it. Oh & I went to therapy today. Met with a “Christian” counselor up at my school’s counseling center. I’m not sure how it went to be honest. I say that because I spent the whole session snotting up tissues, hiccuping, & babbling through tears that wouldn’t stop spilling over my eyelids. So..I don’t know how that went….
BUT. Even though the pendulum has swung me a little left of the middle, and Depression has shown up for a visit, I’m trying not to let him unpack his bags and get cozy. It’s taking all of my energy, but I’m trying to just relax, absorb everything that’s going on with me emotionally & just….BE. And focus on the GOOD things that have been going on in my life. There’s a scripture that came to me about an hour ago as I sat here at the desk vegging out on Twitter:
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phillipians 4:8
It pretty much reminded me that it’s ok to feel crappy on a day that I’ve designated to show myself some love & acceptance. That’s part of loving yourself right? To accept the good & the bad and allow yourself the space to feel & sort through things? To allow yourself to just BE? I think it is. I’ve come to accept that I’m not going to be all rainbows & sunshine every Saturday, but I’ve also determined to not let it get the best of me. I’m learning how to balance the emotions & listen to what my gut is trying to tell me. I”m allowing myself to feel, and when you’re trying to untangle the stickiness of past trauma or recent hurts, feeling is part of that process-you can’t escape it. Especially if you’re on medication-for me meds have started to stabilize me, but that means since I’m not preoccupied with swinging back & forth between raging, intense emotions, I’m finally starting to see what’s around me. The dust in my life is settling & I’m seeing tons of boxes that need unpacking. Each one that I unpack in an attempt to recover & live a healthier life mentally & emotionally is going to expose me to facing some things that I haven’t before….or revisit some tangles I thought I had processed and unraveled. Staring these issues face to face may cause me to feel some pain, may invite Depression or Anxiety to stop by for a visit, but that doesn’t mean I have to let them stay-or let their voices ring louder than the Truth. I may not be able to keep them from coming over during this season of my life but I can definitely ensure they don’t stay for very long or get to cozy in my space.
So today I’m doing that by choosing to do like the scripture says and focus on the good things. That doesn’t mean I”m ignoring the negative or painful feelings I’m having. I’m acknowledging them,but I’m keeping them in their proper context and space-making a conscious choice to meditate on my successes & the tiniest of victories enables me to do that.
What are my “good” things? Well for one can I just say that being on medication is FINALLY working?! I haven’t been swinging through the bipolar jungle like Tarzan for the past few weeks. It hasn’t been easy, but the rage, the uncontrollable mood swings, the sweaty anxious moments & panic attacks? Cut down significantly since I adjusted my meds last month. YAY!
I made it through my first month of school! It was crazy, overwhelming, & financially painful, but I made it! And I did it all while still seeing my therapist & psych at the VA, AND taking my meds EVERYDAY. YAY! I struggled, but I also recognized when I needed a break & gave myself one. I acknowledged my limits & still kept trekking along.
I have finally started to get over my ex and have let go of some old dreams & desires to embrace new ones. YAY! I’ve been listening to my instincts and trusting my own judgement when I make decisions-turns out I’m not as bad at it as I used to be or as I thought I was.
And the best part? I’ve finally bonded with Alex. I mean REALLY bonded. Bonded as in he comes up to me and gives me hugs, holds my legs, laughs & giggles when we play, I actually WANT to play with him….we’ve developed this closeness in the past 4-5 weeks that wasn’t there before. It took me 17mos, but I have officially fallen in love & feel connected with my son. All of my worries about whether or not I had “ruined” him or our relationship because of my PPD, anxiety, & bipolar madness have disappeared. All of that frustration & agony I felt this summer, when I said it felt like I was stumbling in the dark? Gone. God has flipped on the light switch & all I can see is the love & beauty is placed in my life through my boys.
Speaking of beauty, last thing. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve struggled with my self-esteem my whole life & it’s taken a severe hit since having Alex. As you know, I’ve been working on that, and guess what happened? This week, when the Plague was starting to release it’s grip on me, I took a picture:
When I looked at it, guess what I saw? BEAUTY. No makeup. Frizzy hair. Unwashed face. Swollen eyelid. Funky breath I was so glad to feel healthy again that I snapped this picture to celebrate & I captured a snap of myself full of joy & beauty. I mean, I actually SAW it. I wish I could articulate it. It was as if I had a blindfold on, or blurry contacts or something and all of a sudden they just fell away & I could see the real me. Flaws & all, but beautiful none the less. That’s not being vain is it? I hope not. It’s okay to say “I’m beautiful” with out being conceited, right? I hope so. Because that’s how I feel & what I see when I look at myself now. And when I buy a pair of Spanx next week-WATCH OUT! I’m bringing sexy back ya’ll….or at least my confidence!
Ya’ll God & His love are lifting & carrying me through this…it always has. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for it, for Him & how comforting it is to know that despite what I’m going through or what I feel, His love is there, like a banner over me, guiding me through the rubble. So that’s why I’m choosing to focus on the good things. I know He’ll help me manage the yucky stuff if I just keep my mind stayed to the right & not the left.
So those are my thoughts for today. Acknowledge the bad, but focus on the good. Meditate on what’s good. Celebrate the smallest of victories or otherwise insignificant moments. Embrace YOU. Just BE. And continue to love yourself through the process.
Don’t worry. We’ll get there. We’re on our way.
This was a tough week for me. Not as tough as previous ones, but tough. I started my semester this week and although I was excited about diving into this new chapter of my life, I underestimated the impact it would have on me mentally, emotionally & even physically. In my mind I was thinking that since this was something good, something positive, something fulfilling even, that I wouldn’t experience any type of anxiety; at least not the type that leaves me a hot, sweaty, shaking mess. Boy was I wrong…
All day Monday I could feel that I was talking faster than normal, but I couldn’t really stop myself. Classes were great but by the time I picked up the boys, got us home & dinner was settling in our bellies, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I had done any of it. The whole day felt like a blur and by the time I got the boys down for bed, my thoughts were racing, heart was pounding, I was shaking…I was a wreck, even though emotionally I felt good. I was such a wreck I had to force myself to go to bed. Tuesday, I was still a mess, totally debilitated by it, unable to concentrate or focus, couldn’t think, felt edgy….it wasn’t until I took some advice from my #PPDChat mamas & forced myself to boggie for 20 minutes that I started to feel clearer mentally and actually feel the anxiety finally subside.
When I went to record this yesterday, I didn’t feel like it, but I made myself. When I went to edit it, I stressed myself out because I couldn’t get the timing quite right, no matter how hard I tried. The perfectionist in me reared her ugly head and I actually considered not posting a video at all today.
What made me change my mind? Realizing that much like life & our own humanity, recovery of any type isn’t perfect and doesn’t always go according to our carefully laid out plan. You can go to therapy, exercise, take your meds, cross all your t’s & dot every i, but sometimes, things just don’t go as they should. Sometimes they still end up messy. Sometimes despite all the preventative maintenance we do we still break down and have a bad day…a bad week…or maybe even a bad month.
This week, despite the good that was happening to me, in spite of my having followed my wellness plan, Anxiety still reared it’s ugly head. Hypomania still stopped by & hung around for a couple of hours. I had two bad days. Had some bad moments. But I realized that having these moments of weakness isn’t a reflection of our character or who we are as a person. If anything, I’m coming to realize that actually embracing the imperfection in ourselves & in our lives is what actually strengthens, heals, & gets us further down life’s path. If you’re like me and you’re wrestling or battling with something in your life, take heart and give yourself a break. Don’t let a bad moment or a funky couple of days make you give up on your recovery. Embrace what makes you imperfect & realize that sometimes despite your best efforts, something may go wrong. Instead of letting it discourage you like I almost did, or underestimating it like I did, just grab it by the horns & drag it along with you. Don’t let it stop you from moving or believing in yourself. Imperfection doesn’t dim the brightness within us, it enhances it-if we allow it to in a positive way.
So that’s what this Dance Party Friday is about, what this video symbolizes for me. It’s silly and goofy, and totally imperfect and so am I. But baby, I’m still a star
Alright enough with the Oprah talk-it’s “dancey dance time.”
“It takes courage…to endure the sharp pains of self discovery rather than choose to take the dull pain of unconsciousness that would last the rest of our lives.” – Marianne Williamson