True strength is shown in kindness. Finding love even in pain. I’m often drawn to people in pain. I think that the hardships we face in life have a tendency to either soften or harden us. I try to help soften, but it is always up to the person in pain. I’m not vengeful. I never saw the point of hurting anyone just because I was hurt. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t. In my pain, I have hurt others. I try to make things right, though, whenever I can.

People tell me I’m strong, but I don’t feel strong. I feel like I hit walls my whole life; like I was never good enough for anyone. I feel like Sisyphus. I work to roll that boulder up the hill (make myself better) only to watch it roll down again (find myself not good enough, again) before reaching the top (some idealized place where I don’t have to prove myself anymore.) There is no point in growth where we’ve “made it,” so the top of the hill is not that point. I suppose I’m looking for resting spots along the path, not the top of the hill. I don’t see them, but I do recognize that with each roll down the hill, I take new things in the growth process to feel better on the next path.

I don’t feel kind, I’m always messing it up. I always see room for improvement, and I’m always trying my best to make space for people. But, I keep failing; especially when my life feels like it’s in the toilet. At the time of this writing (months ago), my personal life feels like a mess, my work feels hostile, my finances are tight, and I even worry constantly about my child when they’re not with me – when I used to trust their father, now I don’t. I feel like I’ve worn out all my friends. I feel like I cannot reach out to anyone as a result. Everyone is so burdened that my burden cannot be shared. I had help for the first 38 years of my life; I had partners or family that helped me in some capacity. Yet, for the last few years, I had to figure it out alone. I have never felt so weak.

I felt like everything crumbled, but I knew I had to prove to myself that I could do it alone. I guess I am? I’m alive, my child is doing well, we have a place to live and we aren’t starving. Friends came out of the woodwork when I got divorced, but they’re all gone now. I’m working through books about grief and communication… and dating. I’m battling depression the hardest it’s ever hit me, and managing, but I never experienced it like this. I used to feel like I crumbled briefly, but I always got back up quickly and put on a good face about it. I feel like I’ve been drowning for years now, and each gasp of air just keeps me from dying. Where do I find a happiness in living again? That’s the work. I just keep trying.

I had a period of feeling like my child was my only reason to keep living. You might want to read that again. No one should have to feel like that. If you’ve felt that way, ever, I’m so sorry. It’s worth the work to find a reason for yourself. You deserve internal reasons for living. Find places you want to see, things you want to do, anything that’s for you. I really like the Bloom app, it helps. Positive affirmations also help; there are several apps you can get that will pop up positive affirmations on your phone throughout the day. I made myself write out reasons to live. Reprogram your brain to see something positive. If you don’t have a support system, make your phone your new support system. Not the doom scrolling, but the reframing, the positive affirmations, the reminders of who you want to be.

I don’t know if I’m strong emotionally, but I can tell a story about being strong physically…

I’ve always been a dancer and I build muscle rather easily. Dancing builds strong legs, it turns out. Perhaps the gymnastics helped (it’s probably more-so the reason my legs are strong.) So, this is the story of me testing my leg strength (though, I still want to do the watermelon challenge…)

I didn’t party a lot in undergrad, but I had a lot of dance friends and sometimes we would collectively turn into a “party.” One night we were in such a party, playing twister and other silly things. It was the night after I had my wisdom teeth out, I can’t say I’ve always had good life choices. Somehow we ended up talking about my leg strength, and I was proud of it, so we decided to challenge it. Out of curiosity, we decided to see if I could squeeze my dance partner’s abdomen enough to make him stop breathing… yeah, there was probably alcohol involved in this decision.

So, I hopped up, wrapped my legs around his abdomen, interlocked my ankles, and squeezed. We all watched for a bit, he tapped out, gasped for air, and I have henceforth been known to have legs of death. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she can kill you with her legs. Please enjoy the spectacle as she squeezes the life out of you!

An adaptation of River’s quote: Also, I can kill you with my legs. I could probably kill you with my brain, but I don’t have any desire to do so.

Stay alive, and love someone. Love, -S.