Fatigue, a Body That Speaks, and the Beginning of Transformation

I do my yoga every morning when I get up.Yes, I’ve been waking up late lately, unlike my usual habit of getting up early.

For the past few days, I have been working on releasing tension in my hips. Then I meditate, focusing on my chakras, especially the throat chakra.

While practicing, I experience nausea.

I feel like something is blocked in my throat.I don’t know if it’s because I’m not eating enough, or because of the vitamins I recently started taking, as I used to take very few before.

I will return to something softer, simpler.

I am still very tired.

I wonder why this lid over my life doesn’t just lift right away. I am impatient to rebuild myself.

But clearly, it doesn’t work that way.

I know that physical healing has only one pace: slow. I imagine trauma heals at the same speed.

I wish it could go faster.Like a bandage you rip off — it hurts at first, but then you move on.

But no… it doesn’t work like that.

And yet, I know this.

Yesterday, I cooked to avoid feeling my loneliness. This morning, I realize it.

Yet I say I want to be alone.But do I really enjoy being alone?

I haven’t been sleeping well since my leave from work.

How do I put order into what I want to keep… and what I want to let go of?

Some things are clear.But the past keeps coming back.

I think I just need to observe… and let go.

The hardest part is taking back control of my life path.It is my deepest wound.

The hardest part is still ahead.Just thinking about it feels painful.

So I observe.

How did I go through all these years without seeing what was right there in front of me, as obvious as an elephant in the room?

For three months now, I have been practicing gratitude for three things every day.

Sometimes I wonder:Can I simply say thank you… for nothing?

Thank you for having a roof over my head. Thank you for having slippers.Thank you.

Am I going through depression?A reconstruction of myself? Or a revelation of who I am?

Maybe we don’t build ourselves…maybe we discover ourselves.

I carry baggage, values, and habits inherited from my family, from generations before me.

But I no longer want to carry the wounds of the women in my lineage. Nor those of the men.

The buried wounds.The silent wounds.

I want to transcend them.To break this line of silence and pain.

Is it a battle… or a liberation?

I choose for it to be a liberation.For myself.

I am now in my third week of leave and therapy.

I realize that my state makes my family uncomfortable.

And I understand why.

I have always been the strong one, stable, resourceful, independent.

I still am…but I no longer want to be only that, at all costs.

I saw my doctor last week.She has been following me for over 20 years — she knows me well.

She wondered what was happening to me.

My life is changing.Many things are changing at once.

There are triggers in life… whether we want them or not.

This week, the question of identity has come up strongly.

Who am I… really?

It is not easy to define.

For a long time, my roles were defined by:

• my family

• my work

• my activities

• the people around me

Today… how do I redefine myself as an individual?

What disturbed me most this week was my family’s reaction.

I am searching for who I am…and it unsettles them.

I feel different.More tired.Perhaps more withdrawn.

My children want to help me, but they feel powerless.

And I understand that.

But it is not their role to carry this.

There is also misunderstanding.And it brought me sadness.

A feeling of loneliness.And a bit of fear… of being alone in what I am going through.

With my therapist, I understood something difficult:

I am avoiding.

Avoiding facing my childhood wounds.Avoiding speaking about them.

This is what I fear the most.

And yet…this is what I have been doing for over 50 years.

How did I not see it?

What I am beginning to accept:

I am not doing very well.

And my body is reacting.

This week: a bladder infection, pain, discomfort.As if my body is speaking for me.

I understand that change requires courage.And above all, time.

It is not instant.

I want to live without feeling pain in my heart.

I want to share what I have learned.I feel I am becoming a better version of myself.

I don’t want to lose sight of what I have chosen.

In my life, I have accepted roles…but I have also chosen some.

I remember when I moved to the Laurentians.

I left everything behind.

I built a home that reflected who I am.

I chose:

• nature

• sports

• yoga

• teaching

• the outdoors

And I loved these choices.

Today, I want my life to be filled with choices…not obligations.

I want to face my traumas, to learn how to live with them… without suffering from them.

Fifty years of hiding is enough.

I continue my yoga every day.

I do postures to release my hips.So many emotions are stored there.

My shoulders too.

I finish with mudras:for presence, for transformation.

I choose the one that speaks to me each day.

I am grateful to have a friend who checks in on me.

It feels good to know I am not alone.

I am also experiencing some sleepless nights.

But despite everything…

I continue.

has only one pace: slow