Once upon a time there was a ship that was sinking. The lady on the boat was all alone with her little children. She searched desperately all over the sinking ship to find a life boat. She finally found an inflatable life raft and blew as hard and fast as she could to get it blown up to get off the ship in time. The little family escaped and the lady and her children floated back to safety on their little life raft.
The lady was so glad they escaped in time and was trying really hard to be grateful, because she was indeed grateful for their safety, but also sad about the ship. After she sat on the raft and caught her breath for a minute, she realized she was going to have to rebuild her ship. And then she realized she was so tired. And that she could really use some help.
I feel like in the last few months my life has shifted out of survival mode and has started the climb back into a thriving mode. I was feeling so relieved and on top of the world and grateful. But then I realized something I had not realized before. That there's a transition between surviving and thriving. And that it is still hard. Hard in a different way, but still hard. I have realized that while I was in survival mode, lots of things were left undone and that I have a lot to do to catch up to where I want to be.
I am realizing that I need lots of support and help and that I need to learn to ask for it. I am learning that it's ok to be sad about what has happened and to grieve, and that grieving is a process and not something I can check off my list of things to do.
I can do hard things.