Generally when the "Heavy" comes, I fight it with everything I've got. I journal, I push myself to do the laundry and clean the house, I make myself paint anyway, I tell myself it will pass, I counter every negative thought that goes through my head with something positive. This time the "Heavy" held too much weight for that. I couldn't fight it. It was stronger than I was. There was nothing for me to do but surrender to it. That's a bad day. That's a bad three days this time. I opened up the gates and let the "Heavy" have me. My kids avoided me, Darren avoided me, I cut conversations with my sister and my mother short. I hid myself in my basement studio/family room for three days, only surfacing when I had too. It was bad this time.
The first day and a half I raged. Angry at everything and everyone, mostly at myself. Bitter, red hot, rage tore through me. I let it be. I let myself be angry. It burned itself out only to make room for the empty dark hole of despair. I let the despair have me. I cried. I hurt. I told myself I was giving up. I had a long
Later that night, I have my favorite arms around me, and he says to me, "Well at least it didn't come to pack your stuff and get out this time. We're making progress." And I think to myself that yes, we AND I are making progress.
LESSON LEARNED: You gotta let all the crap out to make room for the good. There ARE going to be bad days and frustrations. I have to acknowledge and let go of all the negative that holds me back, not shove it down and ignore it. And no matter how many times I want to give up, I won't. Because I know not how too. Because after all the anger and sadness is gone, I still love. And it is that love that is who I am, and that love that keeps me moving forward. Love for all the people in my life, love for art, love for me, love for everything. THAT is who I am. I know this because when I'm empty, that love is what comes first and what fills the void. I am whole and complete and enough, with love.