Still Broken, But Getting Better

On March 31st, my dad passed away after a 5 year battle with cancer. I haven't been able to think, let alone find words to express the grief I feel. I'm not sure that there are words to describe it, and if there are, it will take a better writer than me to express it. It's having a giant hole inside of you. It's walking around and looking fine and everything is normal, but nothing is actually normal and you are so far from fine. It's feeling like the world has been turned upside down, shaken, and broken, yet your day-to-day is the same.

It's taken me a month to even get back to all of my usual activities. It took a week for me to leave my house. Every little thing was a monumental effort. Even just picking up my kids from school was too much. Every person I saw was incredibly kind, but I could not talk about it without crying. I still haven't had a day without crying, but I've got it a little more under control now.

 I am so grateful for the people in my life. This whole thing has made me value my relationships a lot more, and unfortunately, it has also shown me a few that I need to let go. But, I am staying focused on the love that people are giving me. It's been absolutely overwhelming.

The last thing I added back into my life was TKD class. My TKD family has been incredibly supportive and understanding, but it took me a while to go back. First because class is in the evenings, and I was so exhausted just from trying to exist that I couldn't get myself to go. Second, because even though I am much more confident in my abilities now, it is still a place where I have to step out of my comfort zone often. I just wasn't ready.

It was so good to go back. It is one of my favorite things. I didn't have to talk about my problems or think about them. I could focus solely on class, and I had the support of all the wonderful people there. I was also pleased to find that missing almost two months of class had not affected me too badly, and I still remembered my pattern. I just felt happy after class. I think it was the first time I've really felt good since all of this began.

For now, I am taking things slow. I am being patient with myself and accepting that I am not always going to be up for training (or some days even leaving the house). I'm doing what I can and knowing that it is enough. My health has become a top priority. I'm a master at making excuses, but that's not happening anymore.

 My dad was always the strongest and bravest man I knew. He taught me how to lift when I was young and would accompany him to the fire station. (He was a firefighter and EMT - see, the BRAVEST man I've known.) It is when my love of lifting truly began. Even after his diagnosis, he walked almost daily, and I am not talking about a mile or so. He walked up to 8 miles. No music, no headphones. He watched the nature around him. He hiked almost until the end. We had some really amazing hikes last fall, and I am so grateful for those memories.

So, that is where I am at today. Still broken, but getting better. Figuring out how to live with this and doing my best to make healthy choices and just feeling grateful for all the good in my life.