The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest

144 BRIANNA WIEST
When we do this, we become free to step into the field of
infinite potential. We become free to be who we always
wanted, to create what we always wanted, and to have
what we always wanted. The time is now, and the place
is here.
Ruminating over the past doesn’t mean you want to return
to it.
Not being able to forget what happened doesn’t mean
you’re content to keep reliving it again and again, even
though right now, you very much are.
The wildest thing about life is how unassumingly it keeps
moving. You lose the person closest to you and the world
affords you a few days of grieving, and then you’re expected
to just keep going. You go through something so life-shifting,
mind-altering, and deeply traumatic, then find that
society only has a small bandwidth for tolerating your fear.
Here’s what you’re allowed: You’re okay to cry and you’re
forgiven for being sad or canceling a few plans here and
there. You’re permitted a few days off of work and someone
to listen to you vent a handful of times.
But processing and accepting the gravity of something
that touched every last inch of you is not something you
can do on a mental-health day. It’s not something the
world affords you enough time for, and so you botch the
job. You carry on.