My heart broke twice this week. Not the "that really hurt me" heartbreak, the "I lost 9 pounds in 4 days" kind of heartbreak. The kind that wrecks the body, the kind that makes a person gag when food hits their tongue, let alone gets swallowed. The kind that there is no absolution from.
Somewhere in all of this, I'm starting to find me. I'm starting to identify myself as an individual, not part of a larger puzzle. There's joy in realizing that anything that causes unhappiness or discomfort isn't worth holding on to. There's joy in realizing that I may be heartbroken, but I am not broken in spirit.
I'm digging real deep to find this joy. But I tell ya, it's there. It's not big yet, but it's there. It doesn't make the nausea go away, or food more tolerable, but it's a start. Pain and heartbreak isn't unique anyway; it's a universal human emotion. Not wallowing in self pity is a place for me to start. There's no words that another human could say to me that would diminish my pain nor heal my heart. It's just something that will take time and personal strength. Well, no one can give me personal strength more successfully than me.
My quest is to find the best me there is and give that me to the world, without fear that I may get my heart beaten up or broken again. I cannot control someone else's capacity for giving of themselves; only my own.
Now as for the human emotions of the heartbreak, I'm going to go curl up in a ball and wait for the nausea to subside again.