A reprieve

All the fight has finally left me…or did a number of days ago.

I have stopped and don’t care the consequence of of doing so.

This is the first time. It started happening during a period when I was pushing through several projects and lost the one support I had. And I started to give up.

“I can’t do this.” Then, “I won’t do this.” Then, “I will self-destruct.”

That was the mental. But the physical was another game. Before I would even acknowledge that I was overwhelmed, my body started screaming for a reprieve.

But, without support, I genuinely felt like that stopping. I mean REALLY stopping – the.whole.damn.show. But the show must go on, yes? So I took solace in candles, spa days, and my luckily quiet early morning meditations on the beach… which sometimes became fervent beginning sessions for the universe not to abandon me.

I should not have ignored the physical symptoms though. Therein lay the importance of support. From the outside often what you are in denial of is plenty blatant to others.

But not always. Sometimes it takes a spear embedded in your gullet. And then, finally, someone turns to you and says, “Oh fuck – are you all right?”

Not their fault, some of us are just pros at hiding our fight.

“No I am not. Will you kindly help pull this thing out of me?”

So today, I have stopped and, post self-destruction attempt – am really focused on self-healing…in a place I thought it might be impossible in.

And I am grateful for the response.