Baggage.

This past week I was in a bit of a slumber. I had big plans. I was on top of my game. I was excited about some of the changes I was going to make in my training.
It went to hell in a handbasket.

I let things rent space in my head that didn't belong there.

One of the problems with being an ACAO (adult child of an alcoholic) is all the insecurity/ people pleasing baggage I carry.

I loose sleep, I suffer from horrible dialogue in my head.
I will bury myself to unbury someone else. Someone who doesn't give to nickels for me.
I have done it for years.

As a child, I thought love was my mother quitting drinking for me. I did EVERYTHING I could think to do for her to quit drinking. I got good grades, I tried to play sports, I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, I never got in trouble, which was pretty good for living in the trailer park I lived in. I could get in trouble any day of the week. But I didn't. I hardly even swore. I went to church 3 times a week. I begged her to love me.
But she couldn't quit drinking, pill popping, or pot smoking.
"MOM, if you LOVE me you would just stop, Please STOP, please..."
She just couldn't stop. It had a hold on her.
BUT...she did LOVE me. She loved all of us kids. SHE just had so many demons, she hurt more than I had any clue.

Today, I still try so hard.
Andy always teases me. He tries to help me learn to let things go.
And I will for a little bit...but then slowly, painfully, words, dialogue, conversations, images resurface. Its so distorted. Like a wolf in sheeps clothing. The thoughts seem innocent but then they circulate over and over. Hurtful reminders of another failure I am.
Lies. Daunting hurtfulness.
Restless nights.
Hindered thoughts.

My slumber, a week of 4 hours of sleep, cloudy days. gloomy spirits and a black hole of misdirection.
And a grand total of, drum role please...33 miles for the week.

Sunday was my day of redemption. A solo run, beaten up by the wind. I had the negativity knocked out of me.
Each mile, I reminded myself of who I AM.
What I have Conquered.
The Hell I fought through to get where I am today.
The Odds I beat.

It was time to let the voices go. I know WHO I AM. And I know the path I have journeyed. 

"Let him who would move the world first move himself." Socrates

The sun warmed my skin, the road was my best friend welcoming me with open arms.
It was time to move on.
Time to let things GO, for now.

18 backroad miles with Lacey today. We picked up our miles by 2, last week 16, this week 18. So we added 10 second intervals at the top of each mile to keep our pace down and keep ourselves out of injury.
It was such a BEAUTIFUL day. I love listening to Lacey. She just chats away breathlessly. I just tag behind her, beside her and occasionally in front of her.
We laugh at our overshot miles and together hope our brains will work to get us home without too much damage.
Not to bad, 19 miles instead of 18. A few new turns, a couple different roads and always a great adventure!


Anita