On Sunday I lost my self-belief and my faith under the guise of past personal experiences. I had misplaced it for 1.5 days and was struggling to find where they were.
I searched for them everywhere; in positive quotes, favourite music, at the top of a hill climb, at the bottom of an expired Nutella jar… my friend even tried to help me hunt for them. I just kept looking and looking and hoping that I could find them again.
I was angry at my world for its past and annoyed that I couldn’t get back on track, that I was walking down a path and I didn’t know where it was going. But I tried really hard and I fought back with an attack from the deepest ventricles in my heart, with an assault of self-love and belief… belief that I could get through this.
Sanch, your words kindly popped into my head when I needed them most (they must be opportunists): “You haven’t been given anything you cannot handle.”
This morning I pulled back the curtain and smiled at the note I had written to myself when I was 27 hours into the slump.
Battle won. Well played self x