My reality right now is not what I want it to be. It’s not bright; it’s not full of positivity, it’s not rainbows, unicorns and sunshine right now.
My reality right now is that it’s dark; very dark, it’s gnarly, not very positive and it’s struggle upon struggle, the feeling of one nightmare and terror cascading down directly after the other.
Each day is a struggle right now, a fight to drag myself out of bed, to begin the day and face some reality. Some day’s I win, some day’s I don’t. That’s ok.
Some days I rock back and forth in the corner, achieve nothing but buckets of tears and a deep feeling of grief and loss. Grief, for a life that I was living freely. Grief, for a sense of freedom that currently isn’t available. Grief, for the loss of outdoor spaces and trail adventures. Grief, for hugs and outside human contact. Grief, for the inability to communicate with a reciprocated smile. Grief, for the ability to travel and move freely. Grief, for the strength and resilience of long runs outside with my best friend. Grief for family dinners, laughter and long adventures.
It has taken me time to realise and acknowledge the feelings that have arisen besides just feeling like I have been struggling. I have been angry. So. Very. Angry. Angry, at the world. Angry, at people. Angry, at stupidity. Angry, at little things and big things. I still am angry. Intermingled and layered with the gut-wrenching anger is grief. Grief for everything that right now in this current situation, I feel I have lost and that I am terrified I may not ever get to do again. Grief for Sam, our abundant in personality greyhound that we had to put down during all this mess who had been a part of our lives for 13 years. The feeling of tiredness of the situation and the fatigue that comes with a daily fight and struggle is beginning to be more and more overwhelming.
The underlying terror at not knowing if we will ever be able to do these things again is becoming more challenging to deal with, I will admit. I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t know what the solution is to any of this. The anxieties and unease of being near people because you don’t know if you are safe or if they are as healthy as they appear are growing, and I suspect will get worse before this entire situation is over.
I can feel the relentless tugging of anxiety and fear creeping in through the edges of darkness that are swarming around and through me right now. I know I am not at my best right now. That’s ok. I can say with conviction that I own this. I own these feelings, fears and grief.
I own these feelings, but I do not know what to do with them. I do not know how to shake them off. I can’t find a way to shake them off or leave them behind right now.
There is solidarity in knowing I am not alone that my “crew” is feeling these same feelings and struggling with them just as much as I am. There is solidarity and comfort in knowing that we are all fighting to feel like ourselves in knowing that even though we don’t currently feel like us that we are there for each other.
I have much to be grateful for. I am grateful for the lessons that I am learning through this. I am grateful for having a treadmill and Super Coach that realises I am very human and adapts as needed. I am grateful for my running, even on the days I have to fight to tick the session off and on the days that I just can’t bring myself to get out of bed, I am incredibly grateful for the next session. I am grateful that I am not alone in this. That I have people I can reach out to, and them back to me as a unit because I always believe we are stronger as a group than on our own. I am grateful for the routine and release that my training has enabled me through this. I am grateful for the Glimmer Squad and being able to work on everything Glimmer from the safety of our home.
I am thankful for chats, emails, communications, contact and humanness that remains in the world. I am grateful for my doctor and my anti-depressants. I am resolute in knowing that this all shall pass. That someday this will be something that is looked back on and discussed in the past tense. I do not know when that will be; I dearly wish I did.
I don’t have a positive spin on this. I don’t have the rainbows, unicorns and sunshine on this that I honestly wish I could give!
I do have my honesty. I honestly promise myself that I will keep looking forward to what may be with as much positivity that I can muster. I honestly promise that I will keep finding ways to improve, grow and develop. That I will keep my training as honest and as real as I can and keep moving towards the goals that I have set and when reached, I promise to set new goals and move towards them. I promise to acknowledge each and every day, both the good and the bad ones and to be kind to myself; however, I am feeling. That just like in an ultra, I will keep moving forward. They might be painful, horrible steps, but little by little, I promise to keep inching forward and making it through this. I am determined to make it to the other side. To be able to stop grieving for all those things that for now I have lost.
I look forward to laughter, family dinners and long-run adventures on the trails with my best friend.
This too shall pass,
Sa x
