The dark, sleepless night of the soul

Last night was my third dark night of the soul. It could be that you are only suppose to have one of these in your lifetime, but I have distinct memories of three occasions where my world was rocked to its core, and my body needed time to process what was going on, and did not have what sleep needed.

I have 'woken' up in pretty good shape considering a night without sleep. The night itself was long and painful. My heart rate was high. My mind raced. I felt too hot to sleep. I was running through every single scenario of what this piece of news would mean for me over the coming days and years.

This morning I spoke with my dad, such a source of stability in the times of deep crisis in my life. I grieved. And then I followed my usual morning routine. After shedding some tears, I managed to look myself in the mirror and realise that I loved myself. That I would be okay. That while this was incredibly painful, it was actually good.

Today my intention is to talk and write about how I feel, without any expectations of getting anything else done. I allow myself to feel and process in the way my being is indicating it needs to. 

Right now it is saying it needs a coffee.