Two.

Today, I woke up feeling crazy. I tossed and turned all last night, and although I don’t remember my dreams exactly, I know that the tossing was caused by nightmares. It’s the worst feeling – waking up in the morning feeling more tired than you did before you lay your head down the night before.

I’ve been more stressed than usual, and have been attributing it to work (as I am in the middle of a crazy organizational transition) and a lot of personal things going on. My face has been broken out, my stress-induced skin rash is in full force, and my eyes have reached a new limit of puffy. I have been trying to focus on all the fun, good things, and even though I know it is fall, I haven’t stopped to remind myself what time of year it is – and that tomorrow is October 16.

This morning, when I woke up disheveled to the reminder that my monthly rent is due, I realized that it is October 15, which makes tomorrow the 16. My initial reaction was extreme sadness, for a completely unknown reason, followed by anger that I felt anything at all. It’s not a date I want to ink on my arm, or give a lot of thought to, but clearly my body has had other plans for me.

October 16, 2013, marks two years from the worst day of my life. An event that I think about less and less each passing day, but am sometimes blindsided by vivid flashbacks. It almost doesn’t seem real now – like maybe it was a dream, and people like that don’t really exist. Reality, however, is that he did pull that gun. He did force me to rethink my life choices, and I did learn an extreme amount from the experience. I have realized that forgiveness is the best revenge, and it teaches us how to take responsibility for our own happiness – which is also the best revenge…happiness.

I sat at work this morning, and as my first coworker walked by, she announced that my eyes ‘looked different’. She could read on my face what I was feeling. I could only think to respond with ‘They’re puffy, I’m having a rough week’. I scrolled through emails and tried my best to focus, but in the back on my mind, all I could think about was trying to figure out exactly what it was I was feeling. I finally stepped away to head home, and the minute I closed the door to my jeep, the tears filled my eyes and emotion took over. I was taken back to the many months I spent in my car, commuting the 40 miles out to my parent’s house, blubbery and crying the entire drive. That forced ‘alone time’ with just my thoughts and tears. The many months of emotions – sad, angry, relieved, and everything in between - that I worked through, all on my own, those countless hours, when I was finally by myself. Turns out a new job, with people who don’t know your situation, and living with your parents, who are always extremely worried about you, which seemed less than ideal at the time, was actually the perfect way to grieve and work through a divorce. I was forced to think about work at work, and forced to eat and do normal daily things at ‘home’. The time in my car was that scary alone therapy.

But, today, I got into the car that makes me smile, and I thought about the fact that I was headed to the place that I have made an actual ‘home’, where I enjoy being, and is an escape on a hard day. With tear filled eyes, I walked in the door, turned my phone on silent, washed my face, and curled up into my beautiful all white bedroom - my little oasis where I find comfort. I might have been feeling sad, but at least I had all the right tools to stop, breathe, and take care of me.

In all my confusion, I found I was mostly angry at feeling crazy. Not understanding why I was feeling so sad, and why it was disabling me so much. I kept thinking ‘I must be broken’. When I woke up this evening, I began reading a few of my favorite blogs to try and pick myself back up and process what it is I am really feeling.

It didn’t take too long to come across a few things that really put my feelings into perspective. A frequent ‘go-to’ website of mine had this to say about trying to fix a broken past:

"Don’t spend your entire present trying to fix a broken past. The past isn’t broken.  It can’t possibly be.  It no longer exists.  There is nothing to fix…Sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want; not because you don’t deserve it, but because you deserve better.  No matter how many times you break down, there should always be a little voice inside you that says, “NO, you’re not done yet!  Get back up!”…What you need to realize is, life is a journey, often difficult and sometimes incredibly cruel; but you are well equipped for it as long as you tap into your inner strength in the present, and allow it to flourish forward."

In another article, they discuss life experiences, specifically tragic ones:

"When an experience in your life has emotional significance, it gets tagged in your brain as being important.  When the emotional experience is tragic, it triggers your brain’s fear mechanism, which tells your brain to remain on the lookout for any future conditions that vaguely remind you of this tragic experience (it does this to protect you from future harm)."

While my past no longer exists, the emotion from the tragic experience is very real. I am not broken, but I am also not unaffected. I think I sometimes try to make light of the situation and resist the truth, but the truth is, the experience did leave scars. Luckily, they are scars that I am proud to wear. They have changed me for the better, and while I might be having a super shitty day, I know that it is just one bad day, not a bad life. Today, I took care of myself, and allowed my feelings to bubble, regardless of the embarrassment they sometimes bring. I am loosening my grip on myself, and my need to understand it all. I know that I will look back one day and laugh at all of today’s frustration.

I also have not forgotten to appreciate what I have: my health, my happiness, my family & friends, a good job, and an ah-mazing boyfriend. Once I look beyond the 16^th, October 17^th marks 2 years with my employer, 2 years ‘single’, 1 year with my jeep, and it also happens to be that cute man-friend of mine’s birthday. So many positive, happy, important things, all in complete contrast of the calendar day prior. It marks 730 days of the better portion of my life – some sad, but mostly happy days, because I have realized not to take a single one for granted.

While I might have been sad today, I am thankful that overall, I am still in a good place. Even after all my struggles and failures, I am still here, yet again, standing up and pushing forward. I am still learning, and I’ll be damned if I am not still trying. Past rejections will not define me and lower my self-esteem. I am not afraid to make mistakes, because I know that there is much to learn from them. I am okay with being wrong sometimes, but I will never be okay with giving up my happiness.

And I'll leave you with just some of the things that add to my happiness.