Just like Santa he comes around once a year. The glorious sound of One Particular Harbor. The one who sings of Wings and Fruitcakes. The one who reminds us we only have 24 hours,
maybe 60 good years. It is really not
that long of stay.
And I almost ended it all. On the weekend we live for all year.
We (a term I use to describe the friends who have become
family over the last two decades) have followed Jimmy Buffet for 20 years now. We weren't even legal age when we started attending his concerts. His music fits
our group. Carefree, a little politically
incorrect, live the moment, drink it up, learn to be still (at least for this
one weekend, please don’t think we live in the ‘drink it up’ mode).
You arrive Friday and leave Sunday to attend a concert on
Saturday evening. You proudly stay in a parking
lot all weekend and welcome the unique and quirky personality traits your neighbors
in Cement Margartiaville have to offer.
Yet with this weekend comes girls with bodies who are
thinner than mine. Food, drink, guys
that appreciate the female form and have had just about too much to drink, and
Captain Jack.
As I write these next paragraphs please understand these
words are new and freshly spoken to those who share this weekend with me. To those who love me, to Captain Jack, who
cherishes me and I him above all earthly things.
My husband can be a dead ringer for Captain Jack Sparrow. Jimmy sings of pirates. It is only fitting my husband takes on the persona
of Captain Jack. We love it. Every one of us. Sometimes, girls swoon just a bit too close
for comfort. Captain Jack has never
forgotten he is a married gentleman.
I would stress over the weekend. I would think about the smaller legs on girls
ten years younger than me, the food, the drinks, girls swooning and suddenly I
was the insecure 19 year old in the midst of an eating disorder. Broken all over again. Looking for meaning, looking for worth, looking
for Blessed. Eating disorders may give way to healthy bodies and weight gained
back, but the mental game is still there. Exhausting. Trying to trick and trip you at every corner. The mind game can wear you down.
Captain Jack could feel my stress as we set out that
morning. He kept asking what he could do
and I kept saying nothing. But for some
reason this year was tougher than others. He pulled into a Target. “Let’s get you a new
outfit”, he offered. 30 minutes later I
had purchased a black sundress that covered my shoulders and thighs. Black, that was how I felt, black. I was tired. I was so tired of thinking and arguing with myself.
I was so tired of broken. “I just want the
thoughts to stop.” I said as we entered the highway.
Then it occurred to me - I could end it. I could make it to where I never had to think
again. Pain would be there, but
fleeting, and then I didn't have to think ever again. Captain Jack was going 70 mph. An 18 wheeler was approaching. I could time it perfectly. All I had to do…….
I counted down. Hands in position. 3,2,1…..
I caught myself. What
the hell. WHAT THE HELL! No, this isn't what
is supposed to happen. This isn't how my
story ends. I give in? I give up? No. I
have one life. I HAVE ONE LIFE.
I put my hands back on my lap. I looked at Captain Jack. He didn't notice. He doesn't know what I almost
did. I close my eyes and start to breathe
again. Swallow the cutting tears. Bury it down.
I never mentioned it. It happened four years ago. I never said anything to anyone until this
year. I told Captain Jack and he cried. So, then I cried. I let go of the last broken bit and I admitted
I didn't want “this” buried anymore. When I let it go, when I admitted nearly
ending my life, when I whispered the words, the Blessed poured in. That was
when I hit my knees with hot messy tears.
That was when God said “My daughter, I couldn't take away your broken because
in your broken I have given you purpose. Share your story, help others through
theirs.” Live.
Every one of us has
moments of broken. But we must remember we
also have blessed moments. For some
reason we let the broken rule us. Instead
of excitement we feel anxiety, instead of love we feel fear, instead of hope we
feel desperation.
Life, this one life, it isn't meant to be easy, it is meant
to be gritty. We are meant to have an
attitude of grace and confidence. Why do
we choose the negative when we know the positive feels so much better? Is it because we have let our worth go? We do not deem ourselves worthy of Blessed? Let me shout it, YOU ARE WORTHY! LIVE!
Ladies, let go of anxiety and get excited about the rest of
your life. Get excited about the joys
and triumphs. Get excited about the
opportunities that lead us to a better understanding of our grit. Get excited about opportunities to grow,
change, get uncomfortable, and be triumphant.
One life. Embrace this knowledge. Embrace each other. Just
embrace.
