So I hit a wall tonight.
And I hate it when that happens.
As much as I’ve gotten better mentally and physically this past month there are still moments when I realize how much I am not well yet. How much healing there is still to go.
I was talked into trying something new by my adventurous husband. The one who seemingly can do anything. It was this creative movement class a friend was leading. All very spontaneous and free.
Except I am not. Not now. Not yet.
The first question I asked our leader was if I would be able to do this class with a hurt neck and shoulder. She said I might just want to modify a few things.
In the end it was everything.
While everyone else was stretching their limbs out wild and free I could barely bring myself to move my arms inches from my body. Weeks of painful muscles keep ringing in my ears.
Then we were to move about the room walking and running, whatever. I found myself moving in tense tight circles as far away from everyone else as possible.
When she asked us to move backwards and mentioned that if we ran into someone else it was okay, I pretty much just ran from the room.
Because it is not okay. Not now. Not yet.
I ended up in the bathroom crying my eyes out. Because yet again I watch my family be so fearless and free while I am just not.
And I know I am keeping myself in my own prison. But I am just not able to break out.
Not tonight. Not now. Not yet.
I really envy people who are able to trust the world and themselves.
People who either haven’t experienced deep pain or trauma or have just dealt with it better than myself.
For when you have been hurt it can be so easy to live in fear of the pain.
To guard. To protect.
If I had a dime for every time I’ve been told to “just relax”, that I’m too tense, that I’m guarding too much, then I could pay for my all my therapy and anxiety related medical bills.
But it doesn’t work that way now, does it?
In the end, I know it will have to be me who turns the key that sets me free.
That allows me to run and fly and do all the things I watch so enviously from the sidelines holding my fear and regret.
In the end I know I’ll have to just let go.
Let go of the pain. Let go of all the memories that haunt. Let go of the fear of what lies ahead.
But not tonight.
Not now. Not yet.