Just Breathe

Something I say so often to myself when I feel a spiral begin whether it’s excitement or depression.  Just breathe…

Just breathe

This is especially important for me right now… My emotions have been out of control as of late and not in the whole manic highs and super low lows it’s almost as if I’ve been so super tuned into my emotions that I’m overwhelmed by coming to terms with everything I feel.  It’s as if I’m seeing myself for the first time in many ways, and holy cow is it terrifying.

Maybe it’s just a new level of sensitivity but I’ve had to seek out new ways to try and center myself.  More often than not I’ve yearned for a few moment that I can put on that music that sooths my soul that you’ve heard my gush about far too often in the last few months.  I’ll close my office door, stand in a corner of my kitchen after I get home, or curl up in my bed when I can’t slow down my mind at night and put that music on.

I’ve caught myself praying too.  I said the Our Father the other night when my anxiety spiked especially high.  I recite snippits of psalms that I remember from years ago.  I talk to my dad.  Not a lot, and not for long.  But I do talk to him.  And sometimes I just breathe.

This will be my 12th Christmas without my Dad.

I also just took a 3 hour break while writing this post after that last sentence.  Usually blog posts just kind of flow out of me and to be honest most of this one has.  But then sometimes I just get stuck.  Stuck in my own head, in my own breaks and cracks.

How true that quote is.  He wasn’t perfect.  And as I get older I find myself often saying, sheesh I know why dad was stressed so much, or I know why dad did this or did that.  And sometimes I think I know why he made some of the choices he made.  It doesn’t mean I agree with a lot of them but I think I get it.  And how I wish I had been older and wiser and had been able to talk to him.

There are so many ways to describe grief and everyone grieves differently.


That is perhaps one of my favorite descriptions.  But I often think of grief like the weather.  There are days where it downpours and the wind blows and everything inside is so raw and torn open.  There are days when it envelopes you like fog settling down to the earth and it consumes you.  There are days that are clear, bright, that life feels right, that you celebrate all you had and have.  There are days that sometimes it never crosses your mind, that are so perfect that it’s like all of this was really meant to be in God’s plan.  And there are days like a quiet snow fall where peace and quiet fall over everything and you can reflect and accept.

I’m in the fog lately.  Like I can’t make my way out of whatever this little funk is that I’m in.  I’m not depressed, I’m not falling apart, I’m just acutely aware of everything yet I can’t decide which way is up.

12th Christmas.  And before I know it I’ll turn 30 in January and maybe it’s the idea of that new chapter of my life starting… I’m not sure… fog I’m telling you, lots of it…

So for now, in the midst of these ridiculous ramblings of an almost 30 something girl having an emotional holiday season… I tell myself just breathe.  And I turn up my music a little bit, say a silent prayer and close my eyes for a moment.  The fog will lift soon.  Just Breathe.


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