Fire Inside

November 1, 2023

I don’t know exactly when the fire inside started.

In 2015, a few things happened around the same time that seemed to start the slow burn.

First, a TMJ diagnosis, fruitless PT, and a consult with a kind speech therapist who explained the root cause was stress.

Then noticing suppressed internal anger directed at myself, my partner, my kids.

The beginning of panic responses (many know these as panic attacks - I am working to reframe them as my body’s protective response to big feelings).

They were all signs something needed to shift. That I had to start taking a hard look at myself, my life. I had to start learning and be open to new ideas. I had to pursue and accept help.

And so, I began a relentless pursuit for inner peace, calm, and freedom.

I had no idea how to get there. I just decided to stay open and do each next right thing that presented itself.

When I started, I was really concerned about how long it would take. I wanted a fast fix. I wanted to be better and feel better for me and for the people around me.

Someone told me, “Seven years.” I couldn’t even fathom that. I wanted it done in one year or less.

And when one year went by and I felt so wobbly and unsure, I wanted to give up.

As three years went by, I knew about feelings and trauma and the brain. I had made a lot of progress but knew I had a long way to go.

As five years went by, I learned about boundaries. And I started to lose so many of the things and people I had known and loved. I thought I would lose myself in the process but it was the opposite. I lost all those things as I found myself for the first time since I was little.

I discovered what I liked and what I truly believed and what I would not sacrifice anymore.

As seven years went by, everything seemed hard. Everything. I felt all of the hard that comes with feelings and comes with life. It seemed relentless, unending. It was hard to find joy.

And here I am. Rounding out year seven, sliding into eight. I’ve peeled away so many layers and I’ve come to a place where my focus has been on learning how to love myself.

And I’ve noticed a change recently.

My regular meetings with some of the people who help me, usually filled detailing the latest hard thing, have been filled unintentionally with different kinds of words lately.

Phrases that include things like, “I was really proud of the way I handled….,” and “I showed up and did the dang thing!” and “It was awkward and messy and I did it!”

I didn’t notice it at first, but after a few times, it was hard to deny.

Life is still incredibly difficult. But I am walking through it differently now.

I know I will never be done with this work.

And also, I am celebrating a new place. A place that still has heartache and pain, but also hope and love and strength and freedom and joy.

So, to you, the one reading this, the one searching, the one trying all the things, the one braving the unknown and scary, I offer you hope. There is a place that is grounded and settled and peaceful, even amidst the hard.