The Heart of Victory

She was fierce.

But not in the way you'd think.

She wasn't full of aggression; she was full of passion.
Passion for love.

But not a situational, conditional, selfish love.

It was a subtle yet explosive love.
Only those who have experienced that can understand what I mean.

The fire in her heart fueled her.

It picked her up when she fell, it wiped her tears when she cried and it hugged her scared, wary soul.
Many people believe that to be strong you must not express emotion.
That being vulnerable is being weak.

BULLSHIT.

Here I sit.
I am under attack yet again.
The enemy? Me. My thoughts. 

And my strength is my heart. Raw and beating with vulnerabilities.
My strength comes from experience.
As I hear my evil, debilitating thoughts... I fight back.
I refuse to believe everything I think and feel. That is my battle.

Some days its just getting the courage to get out of bed when the depression is so heavy that I can barely breathe.
It's taking a shower when being awake with myself is terrifying.
It's acknowledging that even if I don't feel like I can move forward, I must. 

There is no more standing still in life.

It's complimenting myself when my soul has been shattered into a million pieces.I have to believe my thoughts are sometimes wrong.
The enemy in my mind has never been so far from the truth.My heart may be on the floor, beating next to me, while I'm curled up in the fetal position crying... but it's still beating.

As long as that remains true, as long as I am still breathing, I win.

The victory isn't the car, the job, the money, the relationship or the status.
The victory is giving the beautiful homeless woman on the corner my money, food and juice because I WANTED to.
It's in the late-night conversations where I'm talking someone off a ledge even though I only got two hours of sleep and was really looking forward to bed.
It's the days when I do my laundry and make my bed when I'm too afraid, sad and hurt to be in public or talk to anybody.
It's refusing to stay in bed all day.
It's in being kind, loving and compassionate when I'm angry.
It is in acceptance.I refuse to sit in silence while my heart cries.
My vulnerabilities fuel me.
It lets me know I'm still alive.

Not every day will be a walk in the park...
Some days it'll be a dark alley full of trash and used needles behind a strip club.
I can walk through both.

I choose to persevere in spite of the things my mind tells me.
Because my passion, my love and my heart allow me to do so.

I will fall.
I will break.
And I will cry.
But it's not over until my heart stops beating.Victory is mine until then.