Hello again.
Not to you. To me.
This feels therapeutic, and I guess that’s why I’m doing it. Because I don’t have Meighan anymore.
But if there’s something that Meighan did teach me- something in my four years of therapy- is that there are different versions of myself. The child Meg, the angsty teen Meg, the adventurer Meg, the reasonable Meg. All different versions of myself that exist in this one, wonderful body.
So, I’m saying hello to the Meg that resides deep in my soul. The one with enough pull to make everything feel like the world is falling apart when she’s not in balance.
Welcome back to writing it out.
It’s been a minute.
These last few months have felt like running a race that’ll never end. They’ve felt like floating around from place to place to place with my feet never hitting the ground. It’s been a lot. And it’s also been fun and exciting and memorable. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
From moving to running to working to Japan, I did not give myself a spare second to sit with it- whatever “it” may be. And that was ok, because every Wednesday I’d have Meighan. I’d have her to talk to and talk through. I could tell her what emotion I felt, what experience didn’t settle well, and what thought I couldn’t shake. She heard my words when I didn’t have time set aside to write them.
But now she’s having twins, and I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to text her unless it was an absolute emergency.
So I’m back to the thing that makes it all make sense. I’m using my words.
This time, though, I’m doing it with a greater knowledge of myself. With multiple years of therapy under my belt and the tools to know how to interpret those big emotions. I can do this.
One day at a time. One word at a time. One emotion at a time. I can take care of myself, and it starts by writing it all out.