Patient

Oh man… last night was rough, and I can feel how high the negativity is this morning.

I’ve been trying to refocus, but I’m really struggling today.

I’m frustrated because I know sleep is the foundation of health, and no matter what I try, good quality sleep feels just out of reach. I tossed and turned all night—up twice to use the bathroom, hot then cold, never fully settling. My body just wouldn’t rest.

I also took some heavy thoughts to bed with me, and I’m sure that played a role. That familiar negative, guilt-filled loop shows up the moment things get quiet—the one that whispers, “Hey, I’m still here. Don’t forget about me.” When I slow down, all the old guilt from the past rushes in, uninvited and loud.

The night before last gave me hope. I was shown a new sleep position and routine to help with my shoulder pain from sleeping on my arms. I followed it, and I slept amazing. Last night, though, I forgot a couple of steps and laid there for over an hour trying to fall asleep. Eventually, I gave up and rolled onto my side—on my arm. Of course, the numbness and pain came right back.

So what happened last night?

Dawn came over for a girls’ night, and honestly, it was really good. We stayed in instead of eating out (which is a huge win for us). I made a new gnocchi chicken pot pie soup, and she brought her fresh-milled bread. Everything about the evening felt positive… except for one heavy thing.

My mom has been diagnosed with double breast cancer.

My sister-in-law reached out and gently said she thought I should go with my mom to her next cancer appointment—the surgery consult. And the guilt hit hard. Why didn’t I automatically think of that myself? Why would I let her navigate something like this alone?

Then I zoomed out and saw the bigger picture. My mom is presenting as calm, not scared at all. The outlook is good—they caught it very early, and it should be very treatable. But just because she’s acting tough doesn’t mean she isn’t scared inside. I should have realized that without being prompted… but I didn’t. And that realization brought a wave of shame and guilt that I’m sure followed me into my sleep.

So here we are.

Last night is over. Today is new.

Today, I choose to shift. I choose gratitude—for what I have right now and for what’s still ahead. I choose to forgive myself for not showing up when I should have, and to be thankful for the nudge that reminded me to show up now.

Healing and growth are not a race. They require patience—especially with ourselves.

I hope you find that patience in your own journey today. And if you need a nudge, please reach out.