Sometimes these blogs are born out of a couple of days of a sentence that pops in my head. I don't necessarily know where they are going to go from that seed but, over time, they start to come to fruition. Wednesday there was a Teacher's Rally (and they deserve every single thing they were rallying for). We were caught so very unprepared at work for the rush of red that came in on us like a tidal wave. We saw it coming and could do nothing to get out of its way. I think everyone lost their minds that day. In the middle of the worse chaos I have ever seen at that place, I fell right on my ass. I busted my elbow and my knee and hurt my hip and got right back up. We were getting the crap kicked out of us so hard I did not have time to figure out if anything was broken. I did not have a second to assess my own well being because people needed their beers for the love of green apples! So, I fell. The place got quiet. I bounced right back up and the room cheered for me... and thought to myself I will deal with the pain later. It was in that sentence that I learned something about myself that I guess I just didn't want to accept. When something hard happens in my life, that's exactly what I do. I get through the moment. I'll deal with the pain later because later will be easier, right? Not at all. I remember sitting on that bar floor, cried one tiny yelp, and told myself, "Get the bleep up, Jes." And I did. I did regardless that my elbow was on fire. I did knowing that I would be in more pain later that day. I did because it's just what I do.
That sentence has been ringing through my head all week. So, I let it gestate. I let it bake. I analyzed myself, my past. My world fell apart when I was a teenager but I had to get back up and move on. I would deal all of it later. I got pregnant on purpose because I needed someone to love me though I had no idea how to do it. I would figure it out later. I married my first husband, a man who never once really respected me but I would deal that later. I lost my father and went back to work right away because I had to just get through those moments. I would deal with his loss later. I lost my dog but I just had to get through those first moments. I would miss her later. I let all of these things swirl around my head like tiny tornadoes and allowing the lessons that were presenting themselves to me do their reconstruction, letting them sink in. Yesterday was my birthday. Maybe that's why I allowed myself to finally see these things about myself. I turned 39 years old. I turned 39 years old and I'm still under construction. So often I push through things that I need to take the time to deal with. And I make up all these excuses of why what I'm feeling doesn't matter. He needs me. She wants me. That girl is going to die without her ranch. It's my own doing. Sometimes I just don't want to deal. Sometimes I just want to fall and stay there, to not fix the parts of me that I know are broken. I've picked up so many of my pieces over the years. I've got buckets hidden away like a hoarder with the ghosts that sit at the edge of my bed at night. I push through all of it because it is easier to skim a page than to figure out the real meaning of any of it.
These last few weeks I've had a lot on my mind. Where am I in this life? Where do I go in the next? What exactly is going to make me happy? Perhaps it is a mid life crisis. Who knows? I think I go through one every three years honestly. As much as all this self reflection hurts at times, I never want to live my life blindly. I want to understand and learn and reset as many times as I need to. Losing my father, changed me. I know that may sound a bit dramatic but losing him allowed me to see myself in a way that I couldn't before. When he passed, I saw, not just saw. I accepted that someone could have so much unconditional hope in me. I guess in a way I started to feel that way about myself. It was like losing him gave me permission to be brave in the ways I ran away from before. It gave me permission to truly learn who I was, not who I wanted people to think I was. There was this quote by Alexander Pope that has often been a theme I have lived by for years. "Act well your part: there all the honor lies." So I spent a lot of my life playing this part, not exactly who I knew I was because I thought that was what I supposed to do. I fall. I get back up. Time and time again I get back up. I don't have time to mourn or cry or fail. I get back up and deal with the pain on my own terms behind doors that no one can break through. Time and time again I hide because I've always felt like that's the part people wanted me to play. The older I get, the more I realize sometimes it would be nice to let myself break for a minute. It would be nice to deal with the hurt while I'm shattered because dealing with them after I've healed is like breaking a bone that's healed wrong. Writing this blog today makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and I'm tempted to erase the whole thing... but I always want to write from the most honest place I can. Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve. Mine resides in these words. Part of growing and learning who we are is facing the parts of us that don't always work. I will always get back up but I am starting to learn that I am allowed to take a minute to heal, too.