It was not my intention to write two semi-dramatic posts in one week, but today calls for another thought of how my day also coincided with a very real truth that occurred when I began my weight loss journey five years ago this week.
Today marks four months since my mom died. While I pride myself on being a strong woman this situation is showing me I can be very weak at times.
This morning was a weak moment. A moment where I looked up articles on grieving, allowed myself to feel some anger, get it out in a way, and finally allowed myself to reach out to a friend.
It's humbling for me to call someone and admit I'm falling apart. It's not something I've done very often and I found myself having a bit of an argument this morning about whether or not to call someone.
"It's too early."
"She's going to think I'm losing my mind."
"It's been four months."
"But I need to know if this is normal.", is the thought that finally won over.
I needed to know if what I was struggling with was normal. I needed someone to tell me that it was okay to still be on such an emotional roller coaster four months after losing the person who was my best friend second only to my husband.
So, I sent my friend a text.
And then I asked if I could call.
It was the best decision I could've made today.
She lost her mother almost seven years ago and knew exactly what I was going through. She spoke words of healing and allowed me to speak. Her shared experience brought comfort to my soul.
Later in the day it reminded me of how I began my weight loss journey.
About nine months before I started my blog and made the commitment to try and lose weight I reached out to a friend. I shared some insecurities about my weight and was surprised to find out that even though I'd known my friend since sixth grade she had gone through the same things.
And she reassured me I was normal. That phone call was the beginning of what would turn into a series of events that would lead me to believe I could change, and even encourage me to take the steps needed to change.
This last five years have brought some very humbling moments. I've had to admit some things about my relationship with food that are not easy to admit, but because I reached out to a friend who could relate, who was honest and kind and loving, I found comfort and strength to move forward.
Losing my mother may be harder than losing weight, but learning to humble myself and reach out for help when I need it is a lesson I'm learning all over again.
It's not easy. It takes laying down the pride and admitting a need. But I'm sure it can only bring out good results in the end.
At least with the kind of wonderful friends I have it can. I'm so very, very grateful. :)