Choices

I rode through another crash into despair yesterday evening.

And today, I'm making a choice.

I can either choose to see what's happening as a pathology. And I can seek Western medicine options including drugs and talk therapy because I 'think' I'm crazy. Or I can choose to see this as a healing crisis that is a sign that I'm on the verge of approaching the root of so much pain in my lifetime. And I can listen to what my body has to say, what it feels, and respond accordingly.

With the first approach, I'm broken. For a lifetime. With the first approach, I'm a victim. With the first approach, I am powerless.

With the second approach, I'm approaching wholeness. For a lifetime. With the second approach, I'm making a choice to ride this out. To trust the work that I have done specifically in the past 5 years, and to trust the professionals who have guided me through that. With the second approach, I am empowered.

I have had professionals tell me that I was clearly misdiagnosed in my early 20's. After I have shared e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. with them. No holds barred. Professionals who specialize in mental health disorders. I have lived my life free of western medication and treatments for seven years. I have transformed my diet and my lifestyle to be a complete 180 from what it was before. I have constantly stepped forward and followed my heart, and each time I have, I have found myself happier . . . and my world has opened wider. People look to me for guidance. They listen to what I have to say. They respect me. They are inspired by me. People that I care for and love . . . whom I respect . . . whom I look to for guidance . . . and whom inspire me.

And I am sitting on the cusp of a path that simultaneously terrifies me AND excites me.

The only 'crazy' in all of this, is that I'm allowing my head to have control here. Yes, it's a good head. It serves it's purpose and helps me to understand the bigger picture. It keeps my heart safe.

This is the pattern for me. My heart spills wide open as a teenager. I'm raped and sexually abused at a time in my life when I am forming my identity. When I'm taking my first steps into a community. When my skills and talents are just beginning to shine through and the possibilities look endless.

And I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on . . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. But I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.

I go to a prestigious arts college. And my heart spills wide open again. There's too much pain, and no community to support it. I'm labeled. I'm diagnosed. I'm put in a box. And again, I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.

I retreat. i don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on. . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. I do it out of spite to some degree. My heart refuses to give up on what it knows 'can be'.

I find a community of women who support me. My heart spills open again. I fall in love. And then I become pregnant. And then I terminate the pregnancy. For reasons that I can't even speak to or emotions that I can't even experience until three years later. And I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.

I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. But these women won't let me disappear. And they keep me in the sun. They support my determination. They nurture me.

And slowly, things begin to unfold . . . I begin to find a community . . . I begin to understand what some of my gifts are . . . I begin to step into the light again. And when I do, I'm given recognition beyond anything that I would have dared to imagine.

I fall in love. My heart breaks open. And the work that I'm doing . . . falls apart . . . in my eyes. In hindsight I understand it more clearly. The how, the why, the reasons . . . and what I gained as a result. It put my foot in the door in a big way. But at the time, I see only failure.

I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. And not only do these women keep me in the sun, but another group of women step into the picture. And they teach me how to listen to my heart. How to walk through the pain. How to love myself.

And in that process, I begin to step forward again. I make a decision about graduate school that seems crazy. Yet it is supported by the people who love me and respect me. So I trust my heart. I trust the signs that I'm given. I trust the women around me. And my head supports the vision. And I move forward.

Here I am, three years later with so many beautiful, supportive, loving, amazing, inspiring individuals in my life, that I'm never at a loss for someone to say 'I love you' to. And in these three years, I've learned how to listen to my body. And I've learned how to listen to the natural world around me. And I've learned how to live with my heart wide open. Even when it causes pain.

I have a choice. I can allow what happened to me when I was a teenager put a glass ceiling on my life, assign a value to my worth, and put me in a box. OR I can choose to plunge into what is in front of me, and have faith that I have everything that I need in order to break through that glass ceiling, assign my own value to myself, and live, free.

He didn't come to me in this lifetime so that I could give up. He came with a message for me. He woke me up and guided me here to this moment. To this community. To this path. He came to me, so that I could be free.

So, yes, this is painful.  Exhausting. Overwhelming. Yes, I can't see where I'm stepping. But every cell in my body calls to take that step. My heart hasn't allowed me to rest in weeks. And the only times that I have received peace, are times when I'm present in my body. When I've allowed my heart to take the reins.

When I've had faith.

For the people that I love, I am a pit bull. I will go to any length to make certain that they have what they need in order to heal, be happy, and live their lives fully. I have done this again and again and again for my closest friends and for people that I didn't even know, but whose pain I could relate to. I did it when the administration of my graduate school program made changes that were, at best, misguided.

And here, in this moment, I am making that same commitment to myself. Fuck the labels. Fuck the boxes. Fuck what was pushed upon me as a teenager.

I am healthy. I am whole. I trust my heart. 

I will stand in the high tide. I am faith.