If we do not feel, then we do not heal.

I had an anxiety attack at work today. I hadn’t had one in so long that I actually forgot what it was. I convinced myself within minutes that I had suddenly developed covid, and wanted to run out of the building so none of my people were exposed to me. It took me far too long to figure out what it truly was.

Shortness of breath, upset stomach, the shakes, and the dreaded chest pain, it hit me, and hit me hard. Taking a quick minute to shout out my people. My people who ask if everything is ok, offer to grab something while they are out, and then return with a chocolate chip cookie to ensure I can still taste. In no way am I diminishing the seriousness of covid, but I certainly had the ability to develop it in seconds today. I could taste the cookie in case you’re wondering.

I got an email that was a game changer for me today. I made the decision to go after my dreams only weeks ago, I knew I made this choice, but it wasn’t quite real yet. Today it became real. Words need to be typed and deadlines need to be met. I chose this, but it is scary shit.

I’m also struggling to maintain my self-care back at work full time and raise my children as a single mom. I’m not alone, I certainly have an entire community filled with not only my family, but friends too. I know that they would drop their lives for my children, but my mom guilt, it’s hitting me hard lately. Single parents, you are super parents, don’t forget that. All parents are, but the ones that do it alone especially.

I also can’t forget the pre-teen years. Sometimes I feel like I fail miserably at keeping it all in check. No sweetheart, you are not wearing a belly top and makeup to school, but wait, am I body shaming now? There really is no end in sight to the personal torture I could have inflicted on myself today, and truthfully started to.

With the realization that my dreams were coming true, came the self-sabotage. No one wants to read what I have to share. My story is nothing compared to their story. There is no value here. I even accepted someone else’s description of me being a fraud just pretending my life was hard to help others, so I can feel good about myself.

Shut the front door Ashley (of course I want to use more vulgar words here but I’m trying to behave). Shut the front door. You Ashley, you have worked so damn hard to be where you are now, you deserve every ounce of what’s to come while your chasing these dreams, and you my dear, you need to speak to yourself the same way you would speak to anyone else, with kindness, love, respect, and unlimited collection of compassion. I’ve learned that we often forget how powerful our words are that we speak to ourselves, even if we don’t say them out loud. They hurt. We can become our own worst enemy in seconds.

I’d love to tell you I pulled it around today, instead I will tell you that I ended up skipping my walk to cry in the parking lot, then sleep in the car during dance. I did manage to pull myself together long enough to have a chat with the dance moms, then inhale an entire bag of chips, while replaying all the things I could of done differently today. You know what though, these days, the rough ones where it all seems to hit me like a ton of bricks, I need them. You need them. Our kids need them.

If we do not feel, then we do not heal. I certainly felt today, and I might tomorrow, but I am no less because of it. Neither are you.

Here’s to a fresh Thursday!

Take care, Ashley