Our world turned upside down last June. It’s been almost a year and i am overwhelmed with emotions. Grief is so consuming. My heart is broken for the loss in our family. I am sad and so very angry. My husband will never be the same. I’m overcome by selfish pain because my focus has been to care for my husband and sweet girl. As we come up on the anniversary, i am so filled with fear. Of losing my own husband. I spoke this weekend with a dear friend about how fucked up it is that i would never fear to lose him to another woman, but instead to the hands of death. I need him here. I still don’t understand how any of it has happened. I want to write a book called The Outsiders Grief. My loss is nothing compared to my sister in law, my mother in law, my husband, his sister. But it is here. It is a weight that flipped the world upside down. My daughter won’t know one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever met. I want to lay on the floor for a week. I want to turn back time more than anything. But i can’t. And it so consuming. Maybe if i wrote the book this summer, it would allow me some peace. A cathartic release about this journey. Life will never be the same. But i have to do something. I cannot sit and let it fester. Our lives have got to continue forward. Our marriage has become stronger. We have learned to speak, to understand, to ask for what we need. To give each other space but still hold on so tightly. It’s so consuming right now. I keep feeling like i am on a train track running next to the rest of the family- trying to keep mine running smoothly (and struggling to) while i race along next to them. I can see them all struggling as well, but i never have the right words. Are there “right” words after death? Is there any salve to calm such an extensive hurt. We have the ability to be so thankful that we were given the chance to know someone so wonderful. To carry them with us. To honor them. My donut obsession is an homage to my grandfather who made my life so wonderful. He died over 15 years ago and i still cry for the loss. That was a different kind of traumatic death. Not like this. This is different. Being a wife, a sister, a daughter in law is a journey in itself. But to struggle through loss and never feel like you know how to act or know what to say is….. something that drives my anxiety to a point where my body feels electrified. I will continue to do my best. To breathe. To find ways to be there, and care in my own way. Even if it feels like I’m on the outside of the window…. somehow it’s raining on both sides, and it feels like my umbrella just won’t open right now. The best i can do is the best i can do. I’m sending love to those falling through grief, struggling to breathe. Get up again, find joy after the tears. Let the water wash away the pain and then honor the life. Keep going.
As I lay here on a Sunday night, a basket of laundry in my peripheral vision calling me (very quietly) to put it away (I never really do) with SVU back on the tube, I reflect on the last two years of my life. They have been no doubt the best, and also that worst of my life. Tonight, at dinner, my sweet Rowan turned to me and said, “Daddy saved you, didn’t he, Mommy?” I blinked. And then said yes baby, I think he did. We have been keeping each other going. Quietly. Slowly. We have spent the last two years trying to get settled. Ive had a million reasons not to write or reach out. I’ll share them all, eventually.
Recently, I realized I need to start looking outward. I’ve taken the better part of the past year to just focus inward. On my child, my husband, myself. I changed my position at work so that I could keep my tunnel vision. It was what I needed to do right then. For my body too. A few weeks ago, my mind came back. It started to work again. Ideas. Passion. Like something broke back open.
Here I am. Beginning again.
My name is Irish. I’m a 33 year old Harry Potter addict who works out on the side. No but seriously. I have been a personal trainer, yoga, Pilates & barre instructor for over ten years. Teaching is my happy place. It’s how I share light (and pain) with those I love. My clients become my friends, my family. I want to share that with you too.
I will be posting workouts. Sometimes 5 minutes of stretching, like today. To be kind to yourself. Because no matter what your fitness goals, that is so very important. I cannot tell you how much kindness & happiness can change the body. Kindness to yourself, and happiness in your body will alter your appearance. You will read my rants about this.
Sometimes I will post challenges. Ways to push yourself, to find creativity in your workouts to keep your mind alive, and your body progressing.
Sometimes, like today… I’ll be thinking about the need to begin again. To have the courage to keep beginning again. No matter what. It’s ok to take time when you need it. Pause. For minutes, days, months…but you have to begin again. You have to wake up and try again.
My name is Irish. I have anxiety, chronic migraines and nerve damage in my left shoulder. I am hyper-mobile in many of my joints and have been working for years to find the correct way to workout to care for myself. I’ve taken this search for knowledge, this search, and translated it to helping others. The greatest majority of my clients who see me in person, come to me for help with pain. Pain management tends to be like a puzzle. Each piece has to be found and put together the right way to find relief. I pride myself in being part of the puzzle for so many.
My pain also helps me see the world a little differently. Perspective is so very important. My anxiety skews it from time to time…but the workouts help.
My name is Irish, I love donuts, perusing the ‘we made too much’ section of Lululemon, drinking too much iced coffee and leaving cupboard doors wide open so that it looks like a crazy person has been in my kitchen always.
I started teaching because I liked the workouts and benefits of yoga and Pilates, but I could not find anyone who had a message that resonated with me. The explanation of how my body was supposed to find what it needed was….. lacking. There was not enough. I wanted more. Different. So that’s what I became. I became the instructor I was looking for. I teach classes that are meaningful to me.
This life is meaningful to me. I’m not a super nice person. I’m not a cheer leader. My teaching style has been rebellious, and sometimes compared to a dominatrix. I don’t have all the answers. I’m on a quest to find them and share each one.
Sometimes when I try to fall asleep I imagine being drifted away on a boat. I’m lying there in the sun, I can hear the waves, feel them rocking the boat gently. There is no pain. I keep repeating, there is no pain. My mom taught me this, and imagining the sun on my face, like it will draw the pain out, keep the sharp stings from coming on, protect me somehow. I’m thankful for it. Sometimes all my brain & body needs is rest but it won’t let go. This meditation soothes me, takes me away.
I’ve only been taking the added magnesium for a few days. I’m not the best with patience. Ok, I’m the worst actually. But for nerves to heal and pain to lessen takes time. More time than I want to be robbed of, so I quietly try not to be frustrated with my body.
Instead I cling to what it can do. I remind myself of my strengths & talents- after all, perfection would be boring really. Then what would I strive for? To maintain? Never! Always a new goal, always more ways to heal & help. Just not always at the pace I want. So I’m working on enjoying the little things more. Playing with my little piglet, who although is four, still looks like a perpetual puppy to me. Taking care of my flowers. Cooking! Maybe this pain is a reminder sometimes to slow down. I have so much to do that I end up like the white rabbit, when really I need to reign it in and get back to the beach.