A Truly Therapeutic Post

I  can very often tend to be a pessimist, but without going into toxic positivity, I am trying to practice gratitude in the only way I know how…by reciting the phrase “it could have been worse.” 

Because, yeah, it could have been better.  FAAAAAR better. And that’s okay to grieve and lament. 

But gratitude ironically comes from comparing what we have to what could have gone even more wrong.  

And oftentimes when things are going wrong–many, many more things start to go wrong. 

From the time I got the idea to write this post until this, here sixth sentence in, I got ANOTHER piece of bad news.  That’s how quickly things can turn from bad to worse.

It already felt like it was enough to be mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted trying to single-handedly get a home that, for many years, housed 5 people up on the market.  

And the stress of moving four of us to a new place (and the move is still ongoing).

And being over a year into the divorce process.

But then the tree in my new backyard got struck by lightning and literally exploded.  

And shattered my van window.

But I forgot to mention a few weeks back my brake light went on and turns out it needs $1500-2000 in repairs (not counting the window replacement).  

(But to be perfectly honest, I was waiting for the car issues.  You are never truly in a massive string of crises until the car issues pop up.) 

And I feel like I’m drowning.  

My business isn’t growing as quickly as I expected or wanted.  

I’m trying to adult for the first time and to prove it, I got a ticket notifying me that my tabs are almost a year expired (I literally never even thought about them before.) 

Logistics aren’t my strong suit and to learn them on the fly as a 40 year old has been humbling and quite honestly, embarrassing. 

To have to learn it all and care for 3 kids is overwhelming. 

And to do it without a safety net is terrifying.  

It’s just me out here.  Make it or break it. 

And it’s an extremely lonely place to be. 

But I digress.  I came here to talk about the bright side.  So what is the bright side?  It’s harder to see when the bad news seems to be compounding.

The bright side WAS going to be that the tree that got struck by lightning and literally shot logs up and down the block didn’t hurt anyone.  The part of the tree that landed on the house roof didn’t crash in. My van encountered no more damage than a broken window.  

As soon as the lightning struck, it started DOWNPOURING.  And I suspect without that downpour there very well could have been a fire.  

My kids weren’t here when it happened, which is a gift because I will tell you it was traumatizing.  (It was heard over 8 blocks away.  And I had multiple neighbors say they were convinced a bomb had gone off due to the sound and light.) 

There is a lot to be grateful for.  I am alive, my kids are safe, I have a literal roof over my head.  I have food in the fridge. 

And those things were a relief an hour ago, whereas now, after even more bad news, I am finding myself having to recite the mantra: You’re alive and that’s a GOOD thing.  (to be perfectly candid, having my history of trauma can often make feeling safe and resilient difficult, so I have to remind myself when I’m in the depths that ‘to be alive is good’.  Even if it doesn’t feel that way in this moment.  And maybe you understand just a bit more why I am an artist. 😂 The deep feels on all sides of the feelings wheel are reeeeaaaaaaaaal.)  

A huge part of me wanted to give up writing this post and lie down and cry and nap, but I’ve identified with my therapist that writing is one of my most helpful ways of externally processing and allowing the feelings to move through me.  (Crying is also a good way, but writing seems to be more potent for me.) 

Feelings aren’t inherently good or bad, it’s what we do with them that matters.  So I’m sitting at my desk and banging out these words, my emotions as my fuel.  And truthfully, feeling slightly better.  

Growing up I was told I complained too much and needed to be more positive, and because of that, I have always assured those around me that it’s okay to vent.  I hated being told my venting was unwelcome and I never wanted anyone around me to feel that same way.  It can be hard to allow that part of me to take up space, BUT HERE I AM.  Taking up space and hoping that if you’re going through a shit storm that you know you ARE NOT ALONE.  

The more people I talk to, the more people say that June has……..been a month.  So I know I’m not the only one feeling like the crap keeps piling up.  And we get to lament all of it.  Your venting (it’s actually externally processing!) is WELCOME HERE.  I will hold it tenderly.  

But living in the both/ands of life means we also can look at the bright side.  For whatever went wrong, there could have been MORE that went wrong and didn’t.    

This too shall pass.  

The lightning will always make for an epic story.  (One neighbor said I should introduce myself as Lightning Girl from now on, and if that isn’t exactly what I’m going to do.) 

In a year, the van repairs will be a distant memory.  

My business woes are a jumping off point to think imaginatively. 

And not having a safety net means I will figure it out ON MY OWN.  

And it will help me build my OWN sense of my safety and all of this is helping me be more resilient. 

Resilience doesn’t build without challenges, so I’m doing what I can to make myself out of Netherite. (Minecraft parents know.)  

And now it’s official.  I have written myself to a place where I feel that it IS good that I am alive.  I AM grateful that it wasn’t worse.  There ARE things to look forward to.

You just essentially witnessed me Live Tweeting my therapeutic venting session.  You should try it.  

In fact, do it and send it to me.  Because it works and I will hold it tenderly and I mean it when I say you are not alone.  <3 

If you are someone who likes to externally process your feelings through any sort of creativity, I do recommend The Art Lab.  Each month it is a therapeutic act for me to make art and write words (you can create in any way you’d like!) and have intentional community. And the deadlines ensure I do.  

It’s a space where your deep feels are welcome.  Where you’re encouraged to process them in an outward way.  Where you get to connect with like-minded people.  

So many of the members I’ve spoken with lament that they feel people don’t often “get” them, but this is a space where they belong.  

Come connect, create, and belong.  You’re welcome here.

Always forward, always through.

For real. I mean it.