Preface: I wrote this post a few weeks ago, but it\u2019s a tough story to tell, so I\u2019ve had it hiding away in my lap top for a while.\u00a0 I wrote this just after the news that a friend\u2019s brother had taken his life, the next day it was Robin Williams, and the next day the events of Ferguson.\u00a0 Our world is a mess.\u00a0 This week several other friends lost someone to the battle of depression and I know it\u2019s time to tell this part of the story.\u00a0So, without further adieu\u2026<\/p>\n
Can I just take a second to state the obvious? Life is hard.<\/p>\n
I mean, don\u2019t get me wrong, I count my blessings multiple times a day. But we live in a broken world and sometimes life just seems overwhelmingly difficult.\u00a0 I\u2019m not even talking about how difficult the past couple weeks have been for me personally with doing a refi on the house, finally getting my AC fixed after 6 weeks in the Midwest summer, a biopsy (it was negative\u2026YAY!) and having to miss my baby\u2019s birthday party.\u00a0 I\u2019m talking about the fact that sometimes we deal with the turmoil of senseless tragedies, and people acting out in violence simply because they feel entitled, and then there is the tragic devastation that sometimes people reach a place of hopelessness that leads them to believe they just cannot go on in this world.<\/p>\n
Life is hard. For all of us.\u00a0 Everywhere.\u00a0 No one is exempt.\u00a0 That is reality.\u00a0 But sometimes it becomes more than that.\u00a0 Sometimes that hardness seems overwhelming, oppressive, suffocating.<\/p>\n
Think about it, no matter what the situation, almost everyone has some kind of escape, don\u2019t they? Alcohol, drugs, shopping, relationships, food, our kids, travel, endorphins?\u00a0 Yes, endorphins.\u00a0 Just take your pick. We use all kinds of things to numb the pain of the real world and all the heart aches that come with it.\u00a0 Sometimes we use all of these things.\u00a0 But eventually, the buzz wears off, the relationship gets rocky, the race is over, the hunger returns.\u00a0 And what are we left with?\u00a0 A feeling of emptiness.\u00a0 So we get high again.\u00a0 Or move on to someone who we have a better connection with.\u00a0 Or sign up for another race.\u00a0 Or rack up more credit card debt. Or grab a fork. But no matter what our chosen method of \u201cself-medicating\u201d might be, it will never cure anything if we don\u2019t acknowledge what the real issue is hiding behind those go to obsessions.<\/p>\n
And for some, it goes beyond that. That\u2019s where the oppressive and suffocating kick in. I\u2019ve heard a lot of opinions about Depression recently, so I wanted to throw in my 2 cents.\u00a0 Depression is real.\u00a0 Anxiety is real.\u00a0 PTSD is real.\u00a0 But until we have stood in another person\u2019s shoes, we have absolutely no idea what they are thinking or feeling.\u00a0 And until one has felt so trapped and stared complete hopelessness in the face, they cannot possibly know what that is like.<\/p>\n
When I started this blog a year and a half ago, I had no idea of the journey before me. As I have dared to tell my story, so many have come forward to share their stories with me.\u00a0 Here is a little more of my story\u2026<\/p>\n
You might be wondering how I could possibly know what that hopelessness looks like? People have told me all my life that my smile can light up a room.\u00a0 But sometimes it\u2019s the people with the biggest smiles, or the ones who make you laugh the loudest, who are hiding the most pain. \u00a0Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, I know it all. \u00a0I have been to the brink of that hopeless despair, I have looked it in the eye and somehow I backed away from the edge.\u00a0 But I have been to that place where I felt so trapped that I couldn\u2019t possibly imagine how I would go on and I can tell you that when you get to that place it feels impossible to string these 2 simple words together: \u201cHelp\u2026me.\u201d\u00a0 And I have felt so stuck that it seems there is no other way out.\u00a0 I have felt suffocated.<\/p>\n
Not everyone is called off the ledge like I was. Why was I called back?\u00a0 I don\u2019t entirely know for sure.\u00a0 But I do know that I won\u2019t let it be for naught.\u00a0 I have been called to a higher purpose and I hope that I am able to rise to the occasion.<\/p>\n
Today when I was at work, I was encouraging a woman to come and run with one of our social groups. She kept insisting she wasn\u2019t good enough.\u00a0 Bah!\u00a0 We love to have all levels at our events, it\u2019s totally ok.\u00a0 Later, as I went off to swim by myself, rather than join a group swim that was meeting just a couple hours later, it occurred to me, I was doing the same thing.\u00a0 Any time we don\u2019t feel up to par, we try to go it alone.\u00a0 And isn\u2019t it the times that we feel like we don\u2019t measure up that we need people more than ever?\u00a0 So why is it so hard to say, I\u2019m struggling, I feel like I\u2019m not enough.\u00a0 But if I ask for help, I feel like I\u2019m asking too much.\u00a0 And so, I\u2019ll just stay over here and try to suffer through this on my own.<\/p>\n
Right now I\u2019m reading a book titled Wild by Cheryl Strayed. It is the story of a woman in her mid 20\u2019s who had never even been hiking before the day she arrived in the Mojave Desert to backpack the Pacific Crest Trail alone.\u00a0 Simply to prove to herself that she could.\u00a0 Last week as I was reading, this part struck me and I\u2019d like to share it with you\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cI stopped in my tracks when that thought came into my mind, that hiking the PCT was the hardest thing I\u2019d ever done.\u00a0 Immediately, I amended the thought.\u00a0 Watching my mother die and having to live without her, that was the hardest thing I\u2019d ever done.\u00a0 Leaving Paul and destroying our marriage and life as I knew it for the simple and inexplicable reason that I felt I had to\u2014that had been hard as well.\u00a0 But hiking the PCT was hard in a different way.\u00a0 In a way that made the other hardest things the tiniest bit less hard.\u201d<\/p>\n
Yep. That is exactly why I do what I do.\u00a0 Saying Good-bye to my dad and living without him is the hardest thing I\u2019ve ever had to do.\u00a0 Making the choice to leave my marriage and take on all the challenges that came with that, that was equally as hard.\u00a0 Telling the story of the abuse I faced as a young girl, the hardest part of that was actually dragging it out of the dark after 25 years. But doing the hardest thing I could think of, an Ironman, makes all the daily ins and outs of general life, and the traumas of my own, seem a tiny bit less hard.<\/p>\n
Come November, when I embark upon a course of the hardest race I\u2019ve ever done, I will seek the finish line to hear my name, followed by the words, \u201cYou are an Ironman.\u201d I will be seeking the acknowledgement for all of the hard things.\u00a0 The race will come and go, and whatever will happen will happen.\u00a0 But the thing about that day is I won\u2019t be out there alone.\u00a0 I have friends that will be on the course with me, friends that will be volunteering, friends who are going to AZ specifically to cheer us on.\u00a0 If there is one thing I have learned on this journey of life it\u2019s that I don\u2019t have to do it alone.\u00a0 None of us do.<\/p>\n
This week I received an unsolicited text from my friend Kristen that read: \u201cJust wanted to tell you that you are so damn strong and beautiful. That hits me every time I see you\u2026I know life can be a struggle but you always seem to come out with a smile on your face.\u00a0 Nice work.\u00a0 Nice work indeed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kristen sees my smiles. She has also seen my tears.\u00a0 And this is a reminder that when I am smiling, or crying, or in the times I can\u2019t seem to find the tears that need to escape, it\u2019s ok to say \u201cI can\u2019t do it alone today.\u00a0 Help me.\u201d\u00a0 There is so much courage in vulnerability.\u00a0 When I am weak, then I am strong.<\/p>\n
When life feels hard and overwhelming, as it inevitably will, remember that \u201cfalling down is part of life, getting back up is living\u201d. There will likely be those who will try to kick you when\u00a0 you\u2019re down, but there is always someone with an outstretched hand to help you back up.\u00a0 And the most courageous thing you can say in that moment is \u201cHelp me.\u201d\u00a0 Even if you don\u2019t say it with words, just accept it.\u00a0 And eventually you will see the strength in that.\u00a0 And you will go forth and offer that hope to others.<\/p>\n
Epilogue: This week I finished the book that I referenced in this post. And I was reminded that with every story\u2019s end, a new story begins.\u00a0 This part of my story couldn\u2019t end until I\u2019d told it.\u00a0 It\u2019s time for me to go forward and tell another story.<\/p>\n
Near the end of the book Cheryl writes: \u201c\u2026I\u2019d spend hours imagining how it would feel to be back in the world where food and music, wine and coffee could be had.\u00a0 Of course, heroine could be had there too, I thought.\u00a0 But the thing was, I didn\u2019t want it.\u00a0 Maybe I never really had.\u00a0 I\u2019d finally come to understand what it<\/em> had been: a yearning for a way out, when actually what I had wanted to find was a way in.\u201d<\/p>\n Instead of an escape, instead of a way out, it\u2019s time to tell the story of finding a way IN.<\/p>\n \u201cEvery time I fall there\u2019ll be those who will call me a mistake, but that\u2019s ok\u2026\u2019Cause I hear a voice and he calls me redeemed, when others say I\u2019ll never be enough\u201d ~Mercy Me<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Preface: I wrote this post a few weeks ago, but it\u2019s a tough story to tell, so I\u2019ve had it hiding away in my lap top for a while.\u00a0 I wrote this just after the news that a friend\u2019s brother had taken his life, the next day it was Robin Williams, and the next day […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"aside","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-668","post","type-post","status-publish","format-aside","hentry","category-randomthoughts","post_format-post-format-aside"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4eO4v-aM","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/668","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=668"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/668\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":669,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/668\/revisions\/669"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=668"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=668"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.ramblingrunnergirl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=668"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}