I stumbled.
I had gotten used to the consistent improvements in my mental and emotional health. I was writing regularly. Work was hardly a worry. I was being more social and trying new things.
Then the insomnia freight train hit me.
I couldn’t sleep more than four hours a night. Everything was irritating and the days moved like molasses. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep. Yet, sleep wouldn’t come and the dawn always arrived with challenges that I didn’t feel quite ready to face.
Despite this, I am proud of myself.
I could have let this consume me like it did before. I could have let this affect my work, stopped writing, and isolated myself from everyone.
But I didn’t. …and that’s what matters.
That week was miserable and I still pushed through. I gave what I could and allowed myself rest whenever possible.
The fact that I used healthy coping methods means that I’m growing and healing from my past. I continued to write, even it were fragments of a scene or one-line dialogues. I went to my social gatherings. I reached out to my friends and family about my struggles of the week.
So I stumbled last week. We all stumble at some point in our journeys. It doesn’t define what happens now or in the future. I’ll continue stumbling for as long as I’m sure time will march on.
What does matter is that we keep moving on, even if our steps are uncertain and shaky.
