It is Okay to Lose Your Shit

Say it with me: “It is okay for me to lose my shit!” Shower sing it loud and proud. Scream it in your car. Adopt it like it’s a 3-legged kitten. Own it like it’s a fuck*ing bonged-beer in 4-seconds flat.

Seriously, it is okay for you to lose your shit. Crack wide open, break apart. Ooze something awful. Let it out, fully and completely.

Now, I do not mean to lose your shit on another human, maybe not even in the vicinity of another human, depending on whether or not your friends suck. Take heed: it is not okay to lose your shit on another human. It is, however, okay to feel what is real, to release, to have a bad day, or week, or month. It is okay to throw your hands up and lose it.

It is also okay to:

Give yourself permission to spin into full panic mode.

To confess that you are losing your shit, or that you have lost your shit.

To not pretend that you have not lost your shit.

To cry in the car for a full 20-minutes on the way to your destination, wipe away the tears, then hold your head high and pretend that didn’t just happen.

To ugly-cry while wrapped up into a tiny ball on the kitchen floor.

To completely check out, butt cheeks cemented to couch, staring at a spot on the wall for hours.

It is okay to… let go of control. It is okay to not be sure of what you’re doing with your life. It is also okay to confess that you’re not really sure. It is okay to be afraid, to be uncertain, to push forward on shaky knees. But push forward you will.

It is okay to lose your shit. Trust yourself. You will in fact re-claim your shit. You’ll pull it together when the time is right. The bent pieces will mend. The E6000-glued-back-together pieces will be stronger. The broken pieces will make for better stories. You will Phoenix. You will RISE.