Yesterday, I tripped and fell in the street. My bag and glasses went flying. I fell on my right knee and tore my tights. My two work colleagues picked me up and I limped into the diner we typically eat lunch at.
When I think about it, my trip and fall is the perfect metaphor for my life right now. I keep stumbling with my health, both mental health and physical health, as well as with managing and motivating myself to get the things done that are important to me. The crucial things that will show why I was put here on this planet.
Perhaps my scraped and bloody knee is also a symbol for my broken, bruised heart. For some reason, I keep falling on this same knee, but I also keep getting up. The trips and falls have not sidelined me. And maybe, a heart, like a knee, can heal eventually.
What I do know is that in order to survive and thrive, I must grow. I must, I must, I must, work on myself. It’s hard. It’s so damn hard to be honest and true with myself and my therapist. It’s easier to rationalize and justify why I run myself into the ground. The truth is, if I keep running in circles, then I’ll never get anywhere.
But ultimately, if I don’t succeed at my life and growing and transforming into the person I know I am meant to be (a happy, peaceful artist), then I have no one to blame but me.
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