The Name’s Sprocket!

-hallucinate

-cry over what seems to be small things

-become furiously angry over what seems to be small things

-hit a self destruct button over and over again

-lose all sense of reality

-becoming straight up unable to communicate

-view every situation as life or death

-experience delusions/become vulnerable to irrational worldviews

-perceive hostility where none exists

-become extremely nauseous and/or throw up

-stop engaging in sleeping/eating/basic hygiene

-stop processing sensory input

-process way too much sensory input all at once

-lash out at others/themselves

-and more!

The noise. The drama. The bills. The decisions. The chaos.

These past few months, I’ve taken time.

Time to think. Time to breathe. Time to ground myself. Time to find my way back to who I am.

But here’s the thing:

Life doesn’t stop.

It doesn’t slow down.

And it doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath.

Sometimes it keeps moving while you’re still trying to put the broken pieces back together.

I’ve found myself navigating legal battles, false allegations, grief, loss, uncertainty, and moments that have left me questioning everything.

I want to be the woman who can handle it all. The one who keeps pushing forward, learns from every setback, and never lets life knock her down.

But healing doesn’t happen because we decide we’re ready. Sometimes our bodies remember what our minds are trying to move past.

My hands shake when I don’t want them to.

My voice trembles when I speak up.

My mind spirals at the slightest hint of aggression.

There are days I walk away feeling like I’ve failed.

But then…

There’s still this quiet part of me that refuses to give up.

A part that still believes in a future.

Still believes in faith.

In healing.

In love.

In patience.

In guidance.

It’s taking longer than I expected to become the person I want to be.

But I’m learning that healing isn’t measured by how quickly we move. It’s measured by the fact that we keep moving at all.

I’m grateful that I still have the opportunity to choose a different path. A healthier path. A life that isn’t defined by what happened to me, but by who I continue becoming because of it.

Day by day.

Step by step.

Moment by moment.

I’ll get through this.

If you’re carrying your own battles, I hope you know you’ll get through them too.

And maybe, just maybe, together, we’ll discover that healing was never about becoming who we used to be. It was about becoming someone even stronger than we ever imagined.

But brushing your teeth for 30 seconds is better than not brushing them at all when that 2 minutes seems exhausting.  Doing ten minutes of yoga is better than 10 minutes of sitting when 30 minutes of cardio sounds impossible.  Changing my clothes is good when a whole shower is impossible.  Standing on the porch for a few minutes is worth it after being in the house for three straight days because I don’t have the energy to go anywhere.