Getting humbled


I’m working on my consistency when posting. Meaning, I’ve not been consistent. It’s something that’s important to me for myself, not really just for my blog. So, I’m going to try and regain my practice of posting on Tuesday and Thursday.

Yesterday was World Mental Health Day. Today is National Coming Out Day. To all my peeps who have reason to acknowledge either or both, cheers.

Moving on… so, this is the part of the book that deals with all of the issues. In the arc of the story, it’s the downer section. Please bear in mind if you read this in these next weeks, it’s just me being honest. I’ve a lot more celebratory things to say, but am setting the full context first. If you have thoughts on this, please feel free to comment.

About getting humbled:

I say it’s not so terrible to have a crushed ego. I mean that in a relative sense. Physically, aside from junked knees that are finally giving me some of the grief I have earned, I am ok. I’m no fine athletic specimen, mind you, but relatively healthy.

Being found to be incapable of doing stuff I really aspired to do, and was, for a brief time, good at puts a very different spin on the world.

Being humbled by my inability to do something as basic as sleep doesn’t mean I’m not still the spirited and stubborn person I’ve always been. It means accepting the struggle. It means accepting defeat. It means accepting help. Receiving in a way I never thought I would need to.

There are so many people to thank that they get their own section. I have to acknowledge how broken I feel, without pretending I can do this on my own. I have to accept. And I have to fight. There is no space for giving up. There isn’t time to pretend it’s gonna get better if I wait it out. I have to keep going, even when I am belly down in the dust and crawling. There is only one path. The one I am on. It’s not about finding the yellow brick road. It’s about staying on path.

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