A reader let me know a few weeks ago that she would no longer be reading my blog because it was all about long distance running now and that it's just not as funny as used to be.
Hooray! this is my current direction for the blog except for the not so funny part. I always consider myself to be very funny.
OK, so she might be on to something here.
I politely thanked her for reading along thus far and wished her well. I also mentioned that sometimes the funny just isn't quite there anymore. I mean, I can only pick on HB so much before he starts crying and rocking slowly in a corner.
But I know I have changed ...
I miss my older three teenagers terribly, half of my heart is missing and it hurts. It hurts so much that some days I can barely breathe, and when the lights go out at night the tears silently fall and I realise I am broken.
I am broken beyond repair.
I'm not sure who came out with the quote 'time heals', but it's bullshit.
Time hasn't healed a thing, but ugly red scars do fade to white so there is hope for me yet.
I was a bit of a hot mess when I arrived in Darwin last October. My family GP of 17 years had me on an array of anti anxiety, anti-depressants and when I got here, I just stopped taking them. As far as I was concerned their side effects far outweighed their benefits.
No magic pill is going to replace what I have lost.
I started running again and the natural increases in serotonin were just what my head needed to help my heart want to wake up the next day and keep pumping.
A fortnight ago I was brave enough to go and see a psychologist here in Darwin because my new GP thought it would be a grand idea to help with my insomnia.
Is it a good sign if the psych is crying along with you at the end of the session?
I googled her credentials and she has 20+ years of experience and I swore I would never go back. It's not her fault as she was just being human. But I have never walked out of a health professional's office feeling so hopeless or helpless in my life, until now.
It has taken two weeks to recover from that soul destroying experience. Recovery for me is found in focusing on the positives, being grateful for a wonderful husband and a beautiful three year old to care for every day. I go for a run along this beautiful coastline and take in her beauty and I practice self-care regularly.
I try not to focus on the things I am missing out on and I know it won't always be this way.
For now, it is what it is.
Running is my therapy of choice.
And these are a few of the reasons why the direction of the blog has changed and an explanation on why the funny isn't always around.
I sat down to write an update on my marathon training and this came out instead. Writing is also good therapy.