Today I Decided to 'Show Up' for My Life


I’ve lost count of how many times I have found myself shattered, lying on the floor. I’m often unsure the length of time that has passed, and why I fell to the ground in the first place. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve fallen. What matters is how many times I slowly pushed against the floor and rose to stand. With knees trembling and a heavy heart, I rose to stand another moment. Most people that have interacted with me through the years would never have known I have lived deep in the well of darkness for over a decade. I quickly adapted and learned to hide behind the mask I created for myself. Being labelled as the girl who is “too sensitive,” I rode that wave and resigned myself to the fact people just couldn’t handle me, never truly understanding how I lived in the intimacy of my inner world. So, I remained quiet.

However, through my darkness, I have learned to honor this place and accept this is a part of me. Once I did this, slowly a voice began to emerge. My spirituality has taught me that. It taught me this type of awareness is actually innate, it is always there, nudging at me, focusing me on the present moment. And my empathic heart taught me compassion and patience towards myself, and in doing so, I’ve been more compassionate towards others. The teacher sitting within has guided me through the years to always question, always uncover the answers — or at least attempt to.

Although my depression has taken up the better portion of my life, I am slowly crawling out of it. I am turning 31 this year. A decade ago, I envisioned something very different for my life, but instead of dwelling in what “should have been,” I will look at what I have done. I have been derailed over and over again, it has been an exhausting battle, but through it, I’ve built of reserve of strength and resilience. I have accepted this may be something I will battle through for most of my life. The difference between now and then is that back then, I had no backbone. I had no way of bouncing back. I believe you get real good at bouncing back when you are kicked to the ground day in, day out.

Last week, I caught myself on the floor again. Yes, just last week. Fetal position, gasping for air, screaming at the world, so fed up with the way my life is. This time though, I placed my hand to my heart and I remembered to breathe. I called my power back and I asked for what I needed. The voice spoke back. Movement. So I pushed myself off the floor and got my ass to a yoga class. I moved and grooved and cried my way through the 60 minutes that slowly passed. I was the girl in the corner. I didn’t mind. It’s those moments that count. I believe the small victories are what teach us about how far we have come. These tiny moments hold weight in how we “show up” for our life. For someone living with mental illness, these tiny moments count. These tiny moments, in fact, are large victories. Count those victories and be proud. Always resort back to those victories when you are lying on the floor, defeated and let down. I remind myself, today, I decided to “show up” for my life in whatever capacity I was able to muster, and that is enough.

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Thinkstock photo via cienpies.


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