Just Move On

BUT HOW? 

This is a question I’ve been asking myself for almost a year.

As someone who has spent years surrounded by the healing arts I still had no idea how to actually do it. I’ve got the tarot readings, the energy healing, the sound therapy, the somatic therapy, the sage, the crystals, the books- ALL OF IT. 

But how the f*ck do I heal?!

Well, I at least knew I couldn’t heal in the environment that broke me. I had to get out. I saw an apartment with a river view and said I’m going to heal there.

What I did was cry a lot. 

Sleep a lot.

Contemplate the choices I made.

Wondered if I’d ever be happy again.

Tried to figure out if I actually ever was happy.

Stressed about what stories were being made about me.

I was too depressed to even pick up the habits of excessive drug or alcohol use, because I know the type of person I am and where that would lead me. I wanted to numb everything. 

To tell a story, without telling a story, takes a certain kind of nuance. This one involves betrayal of self, love and friendship. One day I will get on my Ressa Tessa shit and divulge. But today, it’s still too fragile. There is still too much unfolding.

If you’ve been dealing with the heaviness that comes with letting go of a life you not only dreamed for yourself, but also built into a reality, I understand. I understand the grief that comes with making choices that affect people you love. I understand that pieces of you still long for parts of the life you’re giving up. I understand that not knowing what’s next and going at it alone is scarier than anything M. Night Shyamalan could dream up.

So how do you move on? 

I still don’t have the answer. I do believe it starts by choosing yourself. Just a little. Day after day you get a little bit stronger, you feel a little less broken. You start to remember glimpses of who you truly are outside of any circumstance and that world isn’t actually over just because your spirit feels broken.

You take a shower and deep condition your hair. 

You drink some water.

You eat something fucking enjoyable.

You archive the pictures.

You take a walk.

You keep living. I guess at the end of the day that’s the answer. You just keep living. Even if you can’t be optimistic, even though the weight of it makes you move slower. You just keep breathing.