**Trigger Warning** This post mentions suicide and sensitive topics. If you need help seek it out. Please xx
This morning I received this message from the Universe:
“Look how much you have, look how far you’ve come, look how fast it happened, and, you have to admit, how easy it was.
All despite your fears, worries, and self-doubts.
You crack us up,
In fact, it wasn’t a message, rather an email. And not exactly from the Universe but from a subscription I have with Mike Dooley and, I’m guessing, I wasn’t the only one to receive that message.
But here’s the thing… I was thinking that exact same thing this morning while dropping my husband at the bus for work.
A decade and a half ago, I was a single mum of three kids, working 24 hours a day in Real Estate. I was just starting out. I was in the red. It was all-encompassing – the stress, the lack of confidence, the imposter-syndrome, the not-good-enough disease and say-yes-to-everything-so-everyone-including-you-suffers syndrome.
It was fucking harrrd. Yes hard with a triple r!
When I met my husband, it didn’t become easier; in fact, to some degree, it became harder. His dream was a wife, 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. He had come from a very controlled, disciplined and quiet bachelor life. Mine was the opposite. Hectic. Chaotic. Traumatic. Loud.
We eventually had two more kids and became a blended family. So the dynamics of having a strict stepparent and new children became even more challenging and confusing for everyone, on all sides of the fence.
Still, as a low self-worth human, I didn’t stand up quick enough, and I made things harder then they should have been and sorted out earlier on.
Add to that our fifth child was a terrible sleeper – in fact, he would never sleep longer than an hour or two at a time. He would grizzle all day long for 18 months. It nearly killed me. He continued to be clingy right up until he was in year 1.
Add to that a FIFO husband and a teenage son fighting to find his place in the world and trying things which could have taken him to a very different place.
Then Ross River hit me like a tonne of bricks and dropped me like Mike Tyson. I wasn’t sure my life could get any harder. At some point, I drove past a house in my suburb and witnessed the body of a woman who hung herself. It made me think about if it would be easier for everyone if I just disappeared too.
That was rock bottom. I’m one of the lucky ones who became very aware of where I was heading, so I prayed for it to get better. I took a few new steps every day. I hit brick wall after brick wall, and now suddenly I am looking back at that time and wondering at which point did that brick wall fall?
Looking back, I see how bumpy the ride was. I see the rollercoaster I was on, and I now wonder was that really my life? How the fuck did I survive, stay sane and still be smiling?
But here I am.
My marriage is stronger than ever.
My kids are happy and healthy, and doing what young adults and kids do. They’re not perfect. They are not happy 100% of the time, there’s light and dark and every colour in between. But I feel like we are all more alive and settled than the muddy struggles we had.
I am happier and more confident.
My friendships are dearer and more nurtured, and I am not scared to be exactly who I am.
I’ve weeded out the toxic, and I’ve put my energy and focus into those I love more than life itself.
I’m more emotional but in a savouring, grateful way. I’m more appreciative and aware.
Now I’m not sure it was easy – like the Universe mentioned in the email, but it sure has been worth it.