Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

Abstract

ince then. So, first, I’ll tell you why I took another two-month “sabbatical,” and why it’s not such a great idea to stay so incredibly busy that you don’t have time to deal with anything real.Speaking of reality, my divorce was finalized in May, and I landed a new job in June. However, not looking back since caught up with me in July. Leaving the past where it belongs sounded great in theory, but as empowering as the last few months have been, I found that honoring my feelings about that past holds just as much weight as healing from it and moving forward.In this morning’s journal entry, I wrote how focused I’ve been on doing more, working harder, stopping less, and essentially feeling nothing but utter exhaustion lately. In my gut, I knew my plan to work fifty-five hours a week as a CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) wasn’t sustainable, but apparently, I had to crash and burn first before rebuilding a more balanced work/life routine. Because by not allowing myself to have much free time to sink into the grief of losing my husband of nineteen years, miss my kids All. The. Time., or accepting that I’ll be living with my parents for a while (and how delusional I was for thinking I could support myself and two kids on minimum wages) only did more damage than repair; it hurt me more than it healed.And the truth hurts.The truth is: On Friday, I spent my CNA shift with six patients — three of whom were on Hospice. I devoted the morning to taking their vitals, feeding them breakfast, and getting them ready for their family to visit because no one knows when their last day will be. Yet, as I dug deeper into that moment of silence and stillness, I looked around at all their family photos and “Get Well” cards taped above their beds — and felt my feeli

Options

ngs for the first time in two months.Why am I doing so much and feeling so little?What am I running from?Would I visit my ex-husband in Hospice?There’s no way around it; the truth has to hurt before it heals. I am staying busy because it’s the best way to distract myself from all the pain in my veins. I am running from the ‘what-the-f*ck-am-I-supposed-to-do-now?’ narrative stuck on repeat. And, yes, I would visit my ex-husband if he was on his deathbed. Not only would I make an effort to see him, but I’d feed him a slice of his favorite pie (Chocolate Cream) while I held his hand. The truth is, the world doesn’t stop spinning (or side-scrolling)— but my world has changed forever. And I spent the last few months resisting the inevitable. Finally, halfway through July, I see how destructive the pattern of distraction can be, and I’m trying to do more of what I love (like writing) — and I hope you heal more this month too.Thank you to <a href="undefined">Adam Murauskas</a> for the inspiration and waking me from my two-month writing slumber, and to all of you for following along with my story today.You Are Loved. ❤© 2022 <a href="undefined">Divina Grey</a>. All rights reserved.<a href="undefined">Divina Grey</a> is a ferocious Woman, Mother, Writer, Healthcare Worker, and Musician, clawing her way back to good. She enjoys twenty-mile bike rides, soulful jam sessions, laughing like Charlie Brown, and healing hearts (her own included) with a good cup of coffee in her hand. If what she writes shakes your heart in ways you cannot explain, please reach out to her via email at: [email protected].</article></body>

The Truth Hurts

Then Heals

“Not having enough free time to feel your feelings is not a coincidence.”

Ouch.

Adam Murauskas is on point with this one.

Lately, I’ve felt like the scurrying dinosaur in the Google Dino Run game that pops up while you’re waiting for your internet to connect, jumping over hurdles, trying not to die.

“The player guides the pixelated Tyrannosaurs Rex across a side-scrolling landscape, avoiding obstacles to achieve a higher score.”

Yep. That’s me.

Today is the first day in what seems like forever that I’ve been able to stop and smell those luscious proverbial roses. I slept in until 7:30 am, wrote in my journal for over an hour, and savored not one but two cups of coffee relatively peacefully.

It’s been months since I’ve stopped — or felt like I could stop.

To be completely frank with you, I don’t know where this article is going, but I know I need to write. In my last article, I wrote about leaving the past where it belongs, and I haven’t made a peep since then. So, first, I’ll tell you why I took another two-month “sabbatical,” and why it’s not such a great idea to stay so incredibly busy that you don’t have time to deal with anything real.

Speaking of reality, my divorce was finalized in May, and I landed a new job in June. However, not looking back since caught up with me in July. Leaving the past where it belongs sounded great in theory, but as empowering as the last few months have been, I found that honoring my feelings about that past holds just as much weight as healing from it and moving forward.

In this morning’s journal entry, I wrote how focused I’ve been on doing more, working harder, stopping less, and essentially feeling nothing but utter exhaustion lately. In my gut, I knew my plan to work fifty-five hours a week as a CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) wasn’t sustainable, but apparently, I had to crash and burn first before rebuilding a more balanced work/life routine. Because by not allowing myself to have much free time to sink into the grief of losing my husband of nineteen years, miss my kids All. The. Time., or accepting that I’ll be living with my parents for a while (and how delusional I was for thinking I could support myself and two kids on minimum wages) only did more damage than repair; it hurt me more than it healed.

And the truth hurts.

The truth is: On Friday, I spent my CNA shift with six patients — three of whom were on Hospice. I devoted the morning to taking their vitals, feeding them breakfast, and getting them ready for their family to visit because no one knows when their last day will be. Yet, as I dug deeper into that moment of silence and stillness, I looked around at all their family photos and “Get Well” cards taped above their beds — and felt my feelings for the first time in two months.

Why am I doing so much and feeling so little?

What am I running from?

Would I visit my ex-husband in Hospice?

There’s no way around it; the truth has to hurt before it heals. I am staying busy because it’s the best way to distract myself from all the pain in my veins. I am running from the ‘what-the-f*ck-am-I-supposed-to-do-now?’ narrative stuck on repeat. And, yes, I would visit my ex-husband if he was on his deathbed. Not only would I make an effort to see him, but I’d feed him a slice of his favorite pie (Chocolate Cream) while I held his hand. The truth is, the world doesn’t stop spinning (or side-scrolling)— but my world has changed forever. And I spent the last few months resisting the inevitable. Finally, halfway through July, I see how destructive the pattern of distraction can be, and I’m trying to do more of what I love (like writing) — and I hope you heal more this month too.

Thank you to Adam Murauskas for the inspiration and waking me from my two-month writing slumber, and to all of you for following along with my story today.

You Are Loved. ❤

Divina Grey is a ferocious Woman, Mother, Writer, Healthcare Worker, and Musician, clawing her way back to good. She enjoys twenty-mile bike rides, soulful jam sessions, laughing like Charlie Brown, and healing hearts (her own included) with a good cup of coffee in her hand. If what she writes shakes your heart in ways you cannot explain, please reach out to her via email at: [email protected].