Truth Going On 40 The truth is a hard pill to swallow, but when we face it together, it feels more like warm milk, a loving embrace. it reminds us that we can do hard things. but, just like in game of thrones, the littlest character slays the most immortal beast aka death, looks them in the eye and says, “not today.” not today! love, jaclynn. Dear diary, it's our 1 year anniversary and i'm halfway through my 40th year 64 views 6 months ago.
Truth Going I was raised lutheran, but stopped going to church as a result of some events that took place while i was in high school. nothing sinister didn't really involve me, but my parents stopped attending, and so did i. As a passionate mental health counselor, i’m here to share helpful and healthy tidbits from my life. i’m a recent georgia transplant but lifelong washington state native, a master level organizer, a proud mom to my 5 year old daughter evelyn, an intermittent faster, and a struggling a 2 spanish learner (emphasis on “struggling”). I don’t know—truth be told, i don’t know anything these days. it’s that low, wistful hum from an indie song that finds my ear, whispering softly, "before evermore.". What would it matter if i blew through the upcoming stop sign? reality’s razor sharp edge will nearly slice me in two. i’ll slam the brakes and lurch forward. i’ll sit with the most brutal truth i’ve ever known: my mom is dead, and will never be coming back. next.
40 Truth I don’t know—truth be told, i don’t know anything these days. it’s that low, wistful hum from an indie song that finds my ear, whispering softly, "before evermore.". What would it matter if i blew through the upcoming stop sign? reality’s razor sharp edge will nearly slice me in two. i’ll slam the brakes and lurch forward. i’ll sit with the most brutal truth i’ve ever known: my mom is dead, and will never be coming back. next. And while those things have brought joy and meaning to my world, the idea that they were the ultimate goal i was searching for just isn’t true. what i really wanted—what i still want—is to be accepted for me. not because i fit into a box someone else created, or because of what i’ve done or accomplished. just me. Not truths. still, i needed someone with me while they passed. we need each other in this. if you’re struggling to stay connected during grief, imagine a fox with its foot in a trap—when you try to help, it bites. that’s instinct. pain makes us want to protect ourselves, even from love. but healing begins when we override that instinct. “the truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. for it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”. At 40, illness hasn’t yet made its mark too heavily on me or my friends. i’m finally seeing glimpses of the fruits of our labour from our 20s and 30s in terms of lessons learnt, letting bygones be bygones.
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