Remembering who I am

Don't you just hate cute little cliche sayings? The kind of saying that always come out of the mouth of someone who seemingly has a perfect life and gives you this big grin after not hearing a word you've said. That's how I feel about the saying "You have to feel it to heal it." I also think this saying is true and that pisses me off even more. I'm fairly skilled at not feeling. Though when you stuff it these feelings can bubble up at the most inopportune times, like the middle of a work dinner or at a friend's wedding. What doesn't come out then manifests in the body and seriously fucks you up. I looked hard this weekend at what I didn't want to feel.

So in addition to examining my life choices I needed to bitch slap myself back to remembering who I am, what I want and all I faced to get me to this place. I forced myself to read email, text and journals that caused me pain. Sometimes I cried, sometimes I raged but frequently I felt nothing, and in that nothingness I felt emptiness. This work can be so draining while necessary.

I had to ask the hard questions of "Is this true?" "Why do I care?" "And even if there is some truth does it really need to stop my life and happiness?" "Where do I go now?"

I found myself driving and an old song came on; "Gloria" by Laura Branigan. Many of you will have no clue what this is, and the rest of you are feeling really old. It was a sunny warm day, I was speeding down the highway and found I was singing at the top of my lungs. This used to be my 'go to' karaoke contest song. I don't have an amazing voice, or anything special, but I could belt the "Gloooorriiiiiaaaa" part so I won a lot of contests. I was happy. I felt like "myself". I had that moment I so needed where I remembered who I was. I was alive, smiling and fully present. 

Did I fully feel it all to heal it all? So doubtful. I find healing comes in waves and fluctuations; sometimes you almost feel free but then something old and painful hits you from another angle. That's OK. I suspect I'll always be looking at traumatic experiences from many angles and where I'm currently at in life. Does anyone truly rise above their past? If you're doing the work, I say yes, but know that the work can change, morph and collide...you just keep at it and don't let anyone's expectations of what rising above should look like or make you feel like you're back where you started.

Today with a warm breeze flowing through the window, my cat by my side, hair wild and curly, sipping on some raspberry wine...I remember who I am. I remember where I started. I honor my progress. I rise above. I sing at the top of my lungs.