Two years ago my life was falling apart.
Bankruptcy, divorce, losing my mom to a 4 ½ year battle with ovarian cancer.
I was, almost literally, unmoored. I remember thinking, this is what it feels like to be a ship lost at sea without a way back.
“I want to go home” constantly looped in my head, but I didn’t know what it meant or how to get there. I drank too much, worked too many hours, and tried to stay afloat. My heart was broken. Some days it still is.
This is often what I think about when I see people doing destructive things to themselves or others. Sometimes it’s a small heartbreak and sometimes it’s big.
We don’t do ourselves any favors when we try to deny that heartbreak. I resist the idea that we can gloss over our problems or concerns, or that anyone is doing life better than anyone else. There isn’t a formula, algorithm or app in the world that can tell you how to be human.