Today is a day that I could see coming from a mile away but always put it off and dreaded it. It was a day of great defeat for someone who was built to be emotionally strong and resilient – always, no matter the circumstances. I could be the rock for everyone, the example of perseverance, and still juggle all my responsibilities like a champ, until today. Today I allowed myself to be vulnerable for the first time to the loss that I’ve experienced. I allowed myself to feel the pain that’s been bottled up inside me. I made that phone call and I cried. The phone call I knew I would hate to make because, to me, it felt like I was admitting my weaknesses. I called for help. I made an appointment with a therapist.

You see, as the oldest child in my family, I always made it my responsibility to be the strong one. The one who took care of my brothers. The one who took care of my mom and dad. The one who took care of others. I was the fixer in the family. If we didn’t know what to do, I made it my personal mission to figure it out and make every situation better…until I lost that control. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I was at the mercy of her doctors and nurses, and all those who were caring for her. I made decisions, some easy and some hard, but they were on other’s terms and not my own. No matter how much I demanded more, they could only do so much for her. I decided then, that I couldn’t control the situation, but I could control how I handled it. So, I made it my personal mission to be an example of strength for everyone because our family had become a pinnacle of resiliency in the community because of my mom’s heroic response to my brother’s suicide. She never let it stop her…she trudged on determined to make a difference in the community to fight off the epidemic of suicide. So, this put our family in the spotlight of the community thanks to good ole’ Facebook. I quickly decided I would react to this situation just as my mom had to my brother’s sudden death. 

I managed to get through my mom’s illness and death, only to find out I’d be doing it again with my dad. I told myself, “I’ve done this before. I can do it again.” I put on my game face and went to war. I was the best darn caregiver out there and was knocking this thing outta the park by showing others how well I was handling it all. I’d just been promoted at work and was learning all this new stuff, being a wife, being a mom to a busy teenage daughter, tending to my household along with my dad’s, posting my inspirational quotes on Facebook for all to see, because I was doing it. I was really doing it. My cape was flowing in the wind. I was that example of strength that I was trained to be.

Almost six years after my mom’s death and five years after my dad’s, my world started to finally crumble. I finally started to realize that everything wasn’t smooth sailing like I believed. I really wasn’t fooling everyone (or maybe I was, but not the one’s that were closest to me). I wasn’t being the best leader at work. I wasn’t being the best wife. I wasn’t being the best mom. I wasn’t being the best friend. How did I know? Because I wasn’t being me. I’d made myself emotionally unavailable to those around me as a protective armor against my true emotions. If I shut off my feelings, I wouldn’t have to face the hurt. I knew if I faced the hurt, I would appear weak and it would be scary because I’d never felt like that before. I’m strong, remember? I’m not a weakling. I had to finally wave my white flag and surrender. It got me. My armor is off and I’m ready to take my lickings to become my best self again. I have to for myself and for those that I love. I can’t keep hurting others because I’m scared to hurt myself. I hate rollercoasters, but I’m buckled in, with my eyes closed. Here we go. Let’s ride!

Disclaimer: This post comes from a journal entry of mine and is a mere reflection of my “do it on my own, tough girl personality” and not my real view on therapy.  Therapy is a great tool and I encourage others to use it. It is not a sign of weakness. I went and it helped me to cope with my stuffed down emotions and through my sessions I was given tools and homework to help me deal with my grief. If you are struggling with anything in life, I highly recommend it. It’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength.