The beauty of telling your story is that where shame has manifested, glory can impede. It gives way for the me too‘s, the you aren’t alone‘s. So can I be honest? I wasn’t scared of death until I had a gun pointed at my head. And now, my days, nights, my thoughts are taken up. My mind is filled with fears of dying. Almost crippling fears. The almost stop dead in your tracks kind of fears. It’s like you go your whole life somehow believing that death isn’t real and bad things wouldn’t happen to you and you fill your heart with things that actually don’t matter and you create an alternate universe on an earth you won’t spend eternity in and you’re numb to the cold hard truth that this life, these things you strive so hard for, these worries you have, all that money in your bank account- it doesn’t even matter. It doesn’t. Your success can be passed down and money can be passed down but then the person its entrusted to passes down too.
So you could’ve died, and after all the nightmares and panic attacks and hours spent shuttering with chills, maybe you wish you would’ve died, and you feel shame for wishing that. And you tell everyone you’re okay and life is okay as if no one else has ever wished in a vulnerable moment for the weight of the world, the pain of the world to be over. Friends, I know I’m not alone in this.
It’s almost a new year but I’m the same me except filled with more fears and more anxiety and more anger than before. So what I vow to do is lay it down. Write it out. Be vulnerable with my thoughts, with my life, and let love impede the darkness. To literally tell my fears to stfu and let all that’s happened grow my character. Grow me into the woman God designed me to be. To stop asking ‘why me’ and start saying thank you. To think of all the opportunities I’ve been given to learn, to ponder all that I have left to learn and be thankful. To trust. And when I’m feeling like maybe I wish it would’ve ended, to go smell a flower or watch a sunrise or tickle my nephews armpits and be so glad that I’m gifted another chance. One more day to smell that flower, see that sunset, and hear that laugh. 2016, I’m here to lay it down.