110 Floors

The view is so clear, yet so distant.  Everything below seems so minute, so insignificant.  The reality is the higher you are, the harder the fall. That is, significant.

The 15^th came and went, as anticipated the paycheck did not cover all expenses. Finances were not determined or solved. But, I am still here, still living and breathing and going about my daily routine. Life didn’t come crashing down around me.  I begrudgingly move toward the final option of a 401k loan to cover living expenses for one year. One year. This isn’t a plan B, or a fall back, this is my paycheck. This is the fire under me that will drive me to succeed in the set up and follow through of Invictus, LLC writing nutrition plans. This is the kick in the ass to get my personal training certificate and begin that avenue of income.. there is no plan B. Needless to say that is one heck of a chunk of money; this is by far the most secure, sensible option available. There is that heavy feeling in my stomach again. A pit. Fear, anxiety.. overwhelming stress and a force larger than I tugging, pushing, pulling me in every direction.

School started. Reality set in walking into a classroom after 15 years.  The self-doubt and questions surface once again. Two online classes, one classroom. What am I doing, can I really do this? Perception is reality, isn’t it? Sure I can. Maintain positivity. Keep looking forward, not one glance behind except the moments of reflection. Somehow, someway, I can do this. With at least six more hours in each day I surely could. Feeling the pressure and I’m only a week in.

Give grace to myself, easier said than done. A perfectionist, one who has come from a past full of trials and tribulation. One who realized at a young age, you need to look out for number one. Nobody else will. Time and time again of putting your fate in another’s hands, those who should be fully trusted and should have your best interest in mind failed you miserably.  A child’s eyes should not see, live through or experience some of which mine have. Scarred. If the ship goes down, you’re going with it. One statement so boldly stated to me, I will never forget. Said by the one who should be your shield, your armor in life at that age. A child. An early teen. Too young to live life independently. When you are dropped into darkness and find yourself alone, you have two options. Back into a corner and wait for rescue or rise above, create your own shield and move steadfast into the light. Only one option in my book, rise above. Nothing will stand in my way. Nothing will break me. 110 floors above I will not fall. I stand strong.

A change of pace, a necessary pause. Visiting my mom, stepdad and aunt in Tennessee over this last weekend. Too much time passes between visits. A year and a half since I last saw my mom. Significant history there, once again the kind no child or person of any age should witness. My mom has had her share of poor life experience, much more than I. Something dead out of a Lifetime movie.  These traumatic events from childhood through adulthood, creating dependency, inability to stand tall and express herself, I took on the responsibility of being her force field, her shield, in the years I was with her. As years passed, and new scars continued to appear, a deep depression came along with it. Long-term memory disappeared as though it never even existed. Never to be recovered. Sadly, remembering only the negative events of the past. Going years without speaking, seeing each other and wondering if I would ever have my mom in my life again I finally understood the breaking point, the depression. I call her every Sunday and have now for the past several years. She needs me as much as I need her. There is always a special bond between mother and daughter. Much needed quality time. A lot of repair has been done over the years, but I still look at her with the same eyes. I still want to protect her from the world and hug her so tight that nothing else can get in. My stepfather is a wonderful man. A saving grace to be by her side, I am thankful. My partner in crime was able to join in this journey to rural Tennessee. Knowing that the past would surface, bracing myself for him to hear some of these traumatic events in our lives, while many don’t know what to say when they learn, it is important to uncover who I am. My core, why I am, and how I came to be, me. While I’ve not revealed specifics, this will be the first I’ve remotely spoken of my past publicly. Even many of those close do not know. Assumptions are made, judgment, quick assessment, all acceptable to me.. I know who I am, where I came from and where I am going, that is what is important. However, this blog, this journal and exposure of inner self is raw and real and peeling back the layers is necessary. With this, I am vulnerable, and I am me. Knowing where I came from will allow you to fully understand and appreciate the journey that lies ahead. This trip held significance in many ways, I am grateful for the opportunity. Tears fell from my mom’s face as we walked down the terminal. I love you mom, until next time.

Back to fast pace life, standing on the edge looking down at what lies below. Everything appears to be so small in the grand scheme of life.