I'm sitting in the Walmart parking lot and I am behind the driver's seat for the first time in so long I can't even remember. My body feels icky and I am a jumble of emotions. I keep bouncing between utter fear/depression and shedding the very last of the fucks I have to give. My guess is that the latter will win.
This is such a humbling process. Having to constantly talk about and think about the stuff that you most want to keep private rips at your soul. I find myself looking at all the older women around me with a newfound respect. They survived this mess! They survived this hell and somehow found reason and strength to continue living. I am in awe of that.
My perspective is changing. I saw an old lady in a sparkly silver shirt. Before all of this, I would have rolled my eyes and wondered what she was thinking. Now I applaud her for it. Want to wear sparkles? Awesome. Do so. You have been through enough already. You do whatever you please.
Maybe if I come out of this hell alive, I'll do the same. I'll buy myself a sparkly shirt and wear it all the damned time.
No comments:
Post a Comment