I made it through.
And I continue to make it through.
There are times I pride myself on how normal I can be. I think for the most part I do a good job.
There are also times, feeling frustrated or overwhelmed, when I feel like saying, "Do you know how astounding it is that I am even here?"
Sometimes in the mornings, at work, I sip my coffee and look around the room bewildered. How did I get here? How did I get out of bed? How did I get dressed and ready? How did I drive here? How am I actually at work? As the day goes on, I become less and less bewildered and more and more in the groove.
There are times I feel so capable... and there are times I feel so... not.
There are times I race home just so I can cry. There are times it feels like a reward for being normal all day. How can crying be a reward?
On the nights I feel as though I am in so much pain, I remember that first fuzzy week of returning to work...and I know that I have the strength to get up, get out, and get moving. I know that it can never feel as bad as it did then. I can see how far I've come when I read these posts. I can see the progression, the healing, the journey.
The word journey always makes me feel better...because even when I'm feeling stuck, I know that journeys always continue.