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I shut down my laptop and phone and pull the shades down on this sunny, summer-like day.
It was only noon, but I already had a sh*t day. I decided a pity party was in order.
It started as a hopeful morning. I manifested the night before, including burning a candle, meditating, and listening to spiritual music to bring my intentions to fruition.
By noon the universe told me to go f*ck myself. Intentions failed. It was a huge sucker punch to my gut, which took my breath away and brought me to my knees.
I sit on the floor with a sick feeling inside my soul. I wanted this so f*cking bad. So goddamn bad. It was the perfect storm brewing. All of the pieces were falling into place.
I wasn’t asking for a lot. It was one small thing I needed. Something that was out of my hands. The decision was on someone else—just one freaking thing to get me where I needed to be.
I wasn’t asking for a miracle. I did all the work beforehand. It was me who worked my ass off to bring it to this point. I did all of it myself. I just needed the universe to provide me with one small favor. A little spice to give it the edge that it needs to be complete.
So the pity party was completely necessary. I started with some words addressed to no one in particular—just to get them out of my head.
I finally lifted myself from the floor with no thoughts in my head. My legs began to pace the floor in a rhythm to the beat of the music from the radio on the kitchen counter.
Visions started to invade my blank mind of how happy I could have been if the universe presented me with this gift. My heart feels happy in my visions. Everything I ever wanted or ever dreamed about swirls around in my mind like a child on a carnival ride.
Happiness. Excitement. Thrilling.
Then a wave of disappointment washes over my beautiful vision and slams inside my head with the realization that the universe seriously didn’t do me a solid favor—a migraine forms with the conflict.
The beat of my heart slows to an almost snail-like pace. It actually hurts. The pacing, headache, and heartache wear me down to exhaustion.
I lay in bed questioning everything I’ve done up until this point. Why not me? Why did I waste my time for nothing? Shall I give up?
My head continues to pound as my ego taunts me with words of failure, loss, and feeling inadequate.
I cry. A lot.
The extreme emotions take a toll on my spirit, and my eyes begin to flutter close as thoughts of the morning fade.
When I wake from my pathetic nap, it hits me again: failure. Mr. Ego is an asshole. I feel even worse than before. My mind is so cluttered with worry, fear, and disappointment.
I stomp around with my it’s-not-fair conversation with myself. I refuse to let the world in. I need more time. I am nonexistent today—I just don’t care.
Instead of being happy about how far I’ve come, I just need a minute or a day to just feel this disappointment. To let it wash over my entire body inside and out. I deserve that. I don’t need to fake positivity. I just want to feel this.
I am pissed the hell off.
The anger inside feels numb at first. A slow boil begins in the pit of my stomach. A nauseous feeling washes over me. I try to shake it off, but it’s useless.
My body feels on fire. I attempt to cool down by drinking some water, but I don’t feel any better. It takes everything I have not to shatter the glass of water against the wall. I’m in a full-blown rage mood.
I allow the emotions to take up space inside myself.
But eventually, I let it go.
Not because I want to, but because I need to. We can’t hold on to anger and disappointment forever. It doesn’t serve us any good.
We are not going to get everything we want. We have to believe there is a time and place for us.
Maybe this actually isn’t for us, but there is something else—bigger and better. Maybe this is our stepping stone to the next place.
I have to believe that our time will come later. I have to trust that something better is waiting for us. Not because that is always the case, but if I don’t believe it, I would always hold on to it. I need to believe there is reason and purpose.
Eventually, I enter the world again. My disappointment dissolves.
I felt it; I accepted it. I moved on.
That is all we can do.
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