Article originally published on Her View From Home.
Disclaimer: I wrote this post in May of 2017. I held my breath and hit submit, as I emailed my first piece to Her View From Her Home for consideration. A few days later, the kind, patient and encouraging Leslie Means, creator of Her View From Her Home, gave me a chance at writing. A lot has changed since I wrote this piece; however, this time in my life was a breaking point that changed me. Like a light switch that finally after years of jiggling turned on. This work opened up my blogging networking doors, but it also contributed to the most private messages on any one post I have yet to receive. It is an important message, so I share again this time on here, in the hopes that it will resonate with you.
Lately, I have felt like the inside of a soda pop bottle. The liquid that swashes and swishes around against the inside of the plastic bottle being tossed around by a swinging hand. A sway to one side and a swoosh to the other before one day the handler grabs the bottle with both hands and furiously shakes it with all their might. The pressure builds. And finally the cap unscrews and I feel all the emotions that have been stirring inside me, spill out all over myself, others and everything I touch.
Now I am left cleaning the mess.
A mess that includes words mumbled under my breath to my husband in frustration, yet he heard; impatience with my two-year-old who just can’t keep up with my mental and physical speed of doing things; shortness with my work department team who bears the brunt of coldness after I return from a stressful meeting; a home that needs dire attention due to lack of time to care for the space; and, my own personal self who feels the weight of the world heavy on my mind and heart.