Sometimes the deepest feelings are the ones I can’t name. They’re too heavy, too tangled. Its like trying to hold water in your hand, impossible to get a grip.
Are you struggling to find the perfect words to accurately describe the weight of your experience? I want to tell you something that I wish someone had told me a long time ago:
Your silence does not make your experience any less real or valid.
If you’re carrying something that feels too big to share, please remember that your worth and strength aren’t defined by words, but by the resilience you show as you carry the weight of your truth. Some wounds may never be spoken of, but you can still heal, and you can still find peace, in your own time and in your own way.
Breathe … Remember that you’ve been in this place before. You’ve been this depressed and uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you survived.
Breathe … You can survive this too. These feelings can’t break you. They’re excruciating, I know. But honey, you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. I promise! It might not be right away, but soon, they are going to fade and it won’t feel as awful as it does right now.
Breathe … You can do this. And when these crushing feelings do pass, you’ll look back at this moment and wonder why you ever doubted your own resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing … again and again.
This will pass. I promise it will pass. Just breathe.
Another restless night, tossing and turning, yearning for relief from the pain that’s raging in both legs and head. The demon of pain strikes much harder when vulnerabilities are high. Tired. Emotionally drained. Quesy from a day of unhealthy erratic eating. Cold.
Be gentle …
The demon of self contempt emerges from the shadows, tempting me to engage in the game we so often play. He pounces on me. Stupid! Fat pig ... More derogatory comments about being fat and choosing a Dairy Queen ice cream over black coffee. WEAK.
My quivering voice whispers, “Be gentle …” in return.
Be gentle …
You precious soul. I see you. I feel your pain. Breathe through it. I am with you.
Demons become angry, cursing me for allowing the presence of gentleness. Get out, they growl. How dare you show up here NOW. You’re too late. The damage is done.
Grief comes out of the shadows. Too much has been lost, she weeps.
Anger bursts forth, with vengeance. DON’T you dare give in. Gentleness doesn’t belong here.
Be gentle …
Out of the shadow creeps memory. Thoughts of the nightmare start toppling over one another. My body shivers and shakes, building momentum by the second.
Be gentle …
Fire shoots at me from the demon of harm. New pain sears it’s way into the flesh of my upper thigh and I gasp, breath catching in my throat.
Be gentle…
You darling child. I see how much it hurts. Here, hold my hand. Give me that flaming dagger. Let it go.
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” (Psalm 23)
Heavenly Father sits beside me on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and together we watch the demons fade into the darkness at the sound of His voice.
Those words were shared in an email response that I received from my psychologist last week. It had been a difficult session and afterwards, I spiraled. I emailed her in the midst of my upset and her brief reply ended with those words – Hope strengthens, fear kills.
Yes. I am scared. Terrified – of my own brain. I have no control whatsoever of the way it reacts to things anymore. Its like I’m dealing with a completely separate entity. I’m going about my day as if im babysitting some overly dramatic child that can’t be left alone for 2 minutes or else it’s going to get into something it’s not supposed to.
I got up after a nightmare that night and spiraled into the danger zone. I remembered that Magda (psychologist) had pointed out a couple of wins from the previous week (which I really appreciated) and she said that what I was doing was helping me grow my window of tolerance. In my frustration that night, I was like, “F* my window of tolerance. I’m not doing this”.
I want to be numb. I want to go back to the days when I was void of all emotion. I used to be so frozen inside but it’s like I’m thawing out now. I don’t want my thoughts to be so loud or sounds to be so clear. When my head was heavy and foggy and I barely even remembered conversations I didn’t have to deal with any of this stuff. My brain dissociated for a reason.
I feel like I’m going crazy. The fear is strangling me. Choking me. Killing me …
I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to me. So much fear, that I’m going to just snap, go totally crazy, lose my sanity entirely.
Fear. Its trying to kill me. The fear of uncertainty. Not knowing from one minute to the next what I’m going to think or feel. The fear that I’m not strong enough … that I might find myself completely alone and have to navigate it all by myself – again … that I’m going to collapse under all the pressure … fear that I’m going to start but never be able to stop crying …
Fear kills.
*Video clip of me in the midst of a panic attack*
BUT ….
she also said that hope strengthens. Hope. I need strength. I need hope. I’m not going to find either if I just wait around for it to fall into my lap though. So I must make it my daily goal to seek out hope. I know it exists in more than just the ink on my wrist. I see it around me. I see that other ppl have it. Its just that it never feels like there’s any for me.
If you want something in this world you have to go after it right? Well, I want to be strong. I want hope to fill me and strengthen me.
After spending the last month in hospital on a psych unit, I’m in my own home tonight. I thought often of writing about my experiences while I was there but each time I would just stare at the blank screen and think things like …
Who really wants to hear about a hospital, much less a psyc unit full of crazy ppl?
What if I’m oversharing?
What if ppl start to look at me as a crazy person now?
Someone who knows me in real life might recognize me and then everyone in town will know things about me and will never look at me the same way again.
You get the idea. So I have not written anything in a month. I’ve kept myself locked up and silenced because of shame. Well, you know what? Screw everybody! I don’t care what ppl think!
Me and Buddy
Sorry, that’s not very nice of me. I don’t mean that. I really do care what ppl think. I care too much. That’s the problem.
I need to be a little selfish and think of myself sometimes. Particularly about writing. I love to write but I’m so focused on other ppl and what they think that it prevents me from genuinely expressing myself, both in real life and online. I want to work on changing that. I want to write from my heart. I want to be genuine and honest and tell things the way I want to tell them, without shame.
I just want to relax a bit and be myself. I want to let go of the shame and judgment. I truly am my own worst enemy.
I know how incredibly hard a lot of things are. Most ppl don’t understand what you go through and that can make you feel so alone. The things that others do with ease are not that way for you. Social gatherings cause huge anxiety in the days leading up to the event and sometimes just getting to the event itself is a major task.
You’re not like other ppl and that is okay. Your heart was built differently. Your gentle side can leave you ruminating about conversations or comments, for days, causing you to lose sleep. I know how hard it is to “fit” into a world that doesn’t feel like it was made for you. That’s because you are a very sensitive soul.
We only make up a small percentage of the population. You are a gift to this world. Please remember this. To a sensitive soul, love is pure ecstasy. Music is Godlike. Heartache is a wide-open wound. The visual beauty in nature is wild, jewel-drenched bliss. Tension and conflict affect you right down to a cellular level.
Being a highly sensitive soul will lead you through many dark, but incredibly bright moments throughout your life. You have a gift many ppl will never experience. You find magic in places that others never even consider looking.
But it hurts. I know. I see you. I feel you. I understand. It’s all so overwhelming and you are exhausted. Pause and take a breathe. Let me remind you that the ocean never apologizes for its depth and the mountains never apologize for the space they take up. Neither should you!
I don’t have the vocabulary to be able to adequately describe what I am feeling right now. There are simply no words that could do justice in explaining what’s in my heart.
Today was a good day. They’ve been few and far between lately but today the positives just seemed to accumulate, and for that, I am ever so grateful.
Now tonight … it’s hard to even breathe because I am just so overwhelmed. I love nature. I love being outdoors. I live with salt water mere feet from my doorstep. And I love summer nights. Lately, though, I have been so full of darkness that there has been little room for much else. My craving for peace and calm has been so intense that it has morphed into a physical ache.
Tonight as the day came to an end, I felt myself being quickly swallowed up by the darkness once again. I went out and sat on the back patio, to take in a few moments of fresh air before calling it a night, and the sky was incredible. I turned off all the outdoor lights on the house and positioned my chair to get the best view. I sat back and was simply in awe.
The stars were brighter than I ever recall seeing them before. Not a cloud in the sky, just hundreds and thousands of tiny sparkling lights. The longer I sat there on my patio in the dark, the more overwhelmed I felt. Sheer gratitude to be able to sit and see such beauty, with the sound of the light waves on the beach in the background. To be living and breathing and seeing and hearing is a blessing I am so often guilty of taking for granted.
I thanked God, for reminding me that no matter how dark things may appear, there’s always something beautiful waiting for me to experience. I am 42 years old and in my entire life, I’ve just seen one single shooting star. But tonight, in 2 hours, I witnessed 11 of them. ELEVEN!!!! It was like watching a screensaver on a computer screen.
I feel renewed. I feel refreshed. I feel … hopeful. My cries of desperation seemed to fall on deaf ears lately but I’m now reminded that things are not always as they seem. I believe I was given the opportunity to have this experience tonight so I could be reminded that God never turns a deaf ear to me. Not one tear that has fallen from my eyes has gone unnoticed. And that even though my mind has been full of so much darkness lately …
I had such a lovely day on Thursday and I slept a solid 6 hours, in bed, the night before. It has been ages since that has happened! I’ve been feeling bad about having such a limited supply of energy lately and not having the motivation to go out and do things. As a wife and a dog mom, as a human in general, I have been failing miserably. I haven’t been able to engage much because the majority of my mental energy is being spent on keeping myself alive.
So I reached out to my Aunt, who lives on the other side of the bay, and asked if they were going to be home and if it would be OK for us to go over to take the dogs out swimming. The beach has been gross here lately, full of green algae, and definitely not an ideal place for Zoey to be in the water. So I packed up a bag with a few towels, 3 bottles of water (one for each dog and David) and a bowl for them to drink from, sunscreen and off we went.
Zoey
Zoey’s excitement as we were walking down to the beach brought tears to my eyes. Buddy loves the beach but hates the water. He refuses to even get his paws wet. He’d rather explore, especially with all the different smells in an unfamiliar place. Zoey ran ahead and straight out in the water, jumping over the small waves as they came towards her. It felt like my heart was going to burst. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.
The temperature was perfect. Not too hot, with a slight breeze. And there was literally only one small cloud in the sky. It was the perfect shade of blue as far as the eye could see. I tried my best to take everything in and notice whatever I could, using all of my senses, because these moments don’t happen very often and I really wanted to remember this. I chose that particular location because of the sand. A lot of the beaches here in Newfoundland tend to be a bit rocky, making it difficult to walk with my balance issues, but this area was lovely.
Buddy
Zoey splashed along the shoreline in the water. Buddy zigzagged around us with his nose to the ground, taking in whatever scent he could. And being a beagle, a breed known for their hunting capabilities, he was in doggy heaven. And David and I walked for a while, holding hands, engaging in some random small talk.
Then he looks at me and says, “You should put your feet in the water. It’s not cold at all.” I looked at him and laughed. I was wearing jeans. “I’m not getting wet,” I said. David had shorts on and flip flops and had already walked in the water a little, getting his feet wet. “Just roll up your jeans. You’re wearing sandals anyway. Its ok if they get wet. They won’t be long drying.” I shook my head and continued walking along the sand.
Zoey (look at that smile!)
We were quiet for a while but I kept thinking about what he’d said. Lots of ppl love putting their feet in water. In movies I see ppl sit on the edge of pools or on the side of wharves, dangling their feet over the side. I’ve watched countless ppl walk along the shoreline, with the water covering their feet. It’s a normal thing lots of ppl do. So why does it seem like such an absurd thing for me? Why is it something I’m not allowed to do? What makes it so scary? Why does the thought of me doing something that others consider ‘fun’ fill me with so much discomfort in my body?
I had no answers and that bothered me. And I had no valid reason to not allow myself to walk in the water. All I knew was that I felt scared. The shame spiral began and my inner critic let loose, telling me how useless I was. Saying I was stupid and childish and a waste of space.
But I surprised myself this time. “Stop,” I said. Somehow I had found my voice and it took me a second to realize that I had said it out loud. It had been directed at the spiraling thoughts in my head but David stopped walking. I hesitated then bent down and began rolling up the leg of my jeans.
David’s flip flops
I don’t have the words to adequately describe how it felt to walk out in that water but I hope I never forget it. It’s like all of my problems just disappeared for a little while and I felt connected to something much greater. I smiled. I laughed. And at one point I even cried because I was so overwhelmed with something that felt good. I can’t label different emotions very well, other than it being either good or bad. But this felt absolutely incredible!
And Zoey … oh my goodness. It’s bringing tears to my eyes here now just writing about it. When she realized that I was in the water her excitement was almost too much for her to contain and she got the ‘puppy zoomies’. She ran circles around us, in and out of the water, jumping over the waves, then Buddy started chasing her around on the beach, and they were barking, and David and I just stood there laughing. Like, it was absolute pure joy surrounding all 4 of us and I don’t remember the last time I felt something like that.
Zoey
They say that salt water can cure almost anything. And I believe it. I’ve used salt water many times over the years to help promote healing in various physical ailments. But this was on a whole different level. The salt water may have only covered the lower part of my legs and feet but it felt like healing took place somewhere deep within my soul. It’s like, deep down inside, all of the broken and shattered parts of me felt … loved. I don’t know any other way to describe it.
And the little drops of salty water that fell from my eyes when I looked to the sky were my heart’s way of saying Thank You. Because it was as if God himself had wrapped His arms around me and said, ‘I got you’.
Identifying how I’m feeling has always been difficult for me. Although I must admit, I have come a long way in that area in recent years. In the past if you had asked me at any given point how I was feeling I wouldn’t have been able to answer you. I lacked not only the vocabulary necessary to describe the feelings but also the introspection. I had no concept whatsoever of emotions, what they were, or how they felt. I also had no idea that emotions also come with bodily sensations and could actually be felt in the body.
I have a much better understanding these days of feelings, though it’s not something that comes naturally. My first response to how I’m feeling is still the usual “I don’t know”, but I am learning how to pause and go inward. I take a moment to investigate and I can usually come up with something that somewhat describes my current emotional state.
Something else I also struggle with is identifying emotions and facial expressions in other people. I misinterpret a lot and it has led to many misunderstandings. I get insecure about not being able to pick up on emotions in other people so I observe, and I use what I see to figure out what the other person is feeling. The problem with that is that more often than not, I’m wrong. That slight shift in a facial expression does not always mean what I think it does. A raised eyebrow may make me think that the other person disapproves of something I said but that might not be the case at all. The other person may in fact be impressed, surprised, or even intrigued by what I had said.
For a long time I didn’t even know I struggled with emotions. I just thought I didn’t have very many. I’m almost always “OK” if you were to ask. It seems like that’s all I ever knew how to be. I couldn’t identify sadness, joy, excitement, contentment, and certainly not anger. I’ve spent my life so detached from myself that I had no idea these things even existed in me. Growing up I experienced a lot of unwanted emotions and as I got older they seemed to have just flattened out. I stopped feeling the varying intensities and the window of what I could actually feel grew extremely small.
So here I am, at the age of 42, realizing that I don’t know what it actually means to feel a certain way. And I have a very low tolerance for anything that takes me away from “OK”. Sitting with a feeling is a fairly new concept in my world and it’s turning out to be one of the most excruciating things I’ve ever experienced. My system jumps into high alert whenever I sense any sort of emotion inside of me. Whether my heart rate begins to speed up from excitement, fear, anticipation, lust, pain, joy, or whatever else may come up, my brain reacts in a way that propels me towards behaviors that shut it all down. I am working on this though.
A few weeks ago my therapist used the word alexithymia to describe one’s inability to identify and describe emotions. It is a word I had never heard before. I had no idea that my difficulties with emotions were something that other people out there experience as well. I thought it was just another thing I was bad at. One more thing on my never-ending list of character flaws. Something else that other people do with zero effort but requires so much work on my part. Another complexity. Another failure. Another fault.
But I’m beginning to realize that’s not the case at all! Alexithymia is a real thing that is not a character flaw! It’s not because I’m too stupid to understand emotions. It’s not because I’m an air-head, or that I’m dumb, or careless. It’s not because I’m a cold-blooded person who has no heart. It’s something that’s actually more common than I realized. So much so that it has warranted a label of its own.
So I just want to say that if you’re reading this and you find yourself relating to my experience in any way, I encourage you to do a little reading about alexithymia. It might very well help you understand why you feel (or don’t feel) the way that you do. There are a few websites in particular that I found really great at explaining it. I don’t usually post outside links here but if you are interested, feel free to ask and I will gladly share. It could open up a door to a completely new way of seeing things! Please be gentle with yourselves today. You all deserve it!
Personally, I think the path to happiness is paved with appreciation for the simple pleasures in our lives. Making this list today reminded me that I am surrounded by a beautiful tapestry of joy. I’m so often blinded by so much darkness around me that I tend to forget that beauty still exists. From the warmth of sunlight to the gentle nudges from my dogs, each thing adds a unique hue to the blend of beauty that resonates within me.
It’s there. Joy does exist. I know there is more to me and my life than darkness, mental illness, pain, and suffering. During a hospitalization, a very rude psychiatrist once told me that I am ‘leaving behind a terrible legacy’. Those were his words. And that has stayed with me. Not exactly the kindest thing to say to a suicidal individual. But, I digress.
During a session with my therapist on Tuesday, she said something along the lines of there being more to me than just being a complex case. So often I’ve been labeled as difficult … unique … challenging … complicated … and my favorite – complex. More often than not it’s all doom and gloom, jumping from one crisis to the next, with me. Ppl don’t think of beauty … or courage … or strength … or determination … and certainly not joy or happiness … when they think of me. So in a way, I guess that psychiatrist was right after all. If I died today, the legacy I leave will not be a joyful one.
So I decided to take some time to reflect on what brings me joy on a personal level. The following list is what I came up with and it has really opened my eyes to be able to see that beauty does exist in my life. My struggles are what others see. And more often than not, it’s what I see too. So if you are anything like me, I challenge you to take a few moments to intentionally think of the things that bring you joy.
But don’t be discouraged. It has actually taken me a few days to write this post because happy things don’t naturally come to mind for me. But if you be patient and intentional I think you will be pleasantly surprised by what you come up with. And please, feel free to leave a comment below and share, even just one thing, that brings joy to your life. Let’s shift the conversation for a moment and flood my blog with beautiful things! We could all use some of that today. 🦋
My relationship with God. I list this first and foremost because other things would not be possible without it. It’s not only a source of joy, it’s my everything. My life revolves around my faith. It’s where my hope, my comfort, and my strength radiate from.
The warmth of sun on my face.
Hearing ppl laughing out loud, especially kids. It’s infectious. When was the last time you heard someone laughing and you didn’t smile in return?
The smell of homemade bread. It reminds me of my Nan.
The way words and harmonies go together to create music. Everything about music brings me joy.
Nature. Anything and everything about nature brings me joy. Especially the awe-inspiring sight of sunrises and sunsets. Each time it’s like watching the Master Artist paint a new picture just for me because at my unique location and position I’m the only one with that particular view.
The talents that some people possess just blows my mind. Witnessing creative expression, whether it be through a song, video, dance, writing, painting, etc That brings me joy.
Being able to perform a random act of kindness. I love paying for the next person’s coffee order in Tim’s drive thru.
The love and affection I receive from my 2 dogs.
Being productive. The sense of achievement I get when I check something off my to-do list.
Dancing. Losing myself in the rhythm and movement of music. Actually feeling the music in my body.
Rainy days. The calming sound of heavy rain on the window. Not the misty, dreary kind of rain. But rather the kind that just pours from the heavens.
Discovering new books. Finding a work of literary art that leaves me wanting more after the last word is read (or heard, as most of my books are in audiobook format these days).
Random encounters. Striking up conversations with strangers that leave lasting impressions.
Hugs. Embracing (and being embraced) by another person and feeling their warmth. I’m not a touchy-feely kind of person but a genuine hug from someone I trust is something I actually crave sometimes and it brings me joy.
Scented candles. I love the soothing ambiance of the flickering flame and the fragrances they give off.
Watching the stars. It’s so enchanting.
Learning something new. Especially when it turns into a hobby. I learned about Neurographic art through a random tiktok video and it has since turned into a wonderful hobby and it brings me so much joy.
Acts of generosity. I love the feeling that comes with helping others.
Animals. No explanation is necessary because everything about animals (especially dogs) brings me joy!
It is in cherishing these things that I find joy and contentment in the midst of the challenges in my life. It is through gratitude that I unlock the doors to genuine happiness, and each day becomes an opportunity to celebrate the blessings that bring light and joy into my life. Fostering an attitude of gratitude is what allows me to savor these moments.
A recent comment left on a previous post has had me thinking about my emotions.
It needs to come out sometimes. It’s just that I have such a hard time expressing strong emotions. Well, pretty much ANY emotion really, no matter its strength. ESPECIALLY in the presence of another person. I’m so afraid of making the other person uncomfortable that when strong emotions start to surface it’s like I start to just shut down.
But occasionally, like what happened during the recent Ketamine infusion part of my pain treatment, it’s like the emotion just erupts from depths I never knew existed inside of me. Most often it’s a sense of soul-crushing grief.
I envy ppl who are emotional. Actually, it’s the expression of emotions that I envy. Because I have all the same emotions. I just have trouble expressing them. I have an amazing poker face it seems. An impassive expression on my face could easily be what gut-wrenching pain looks like on me that day.
I had my Ketamine infusion on Thursday This time was harder than the others have been over the past few months. Maybe because I was dehydrated …? I don’t know. But … I honestly did not think I was that dehydrated though. It never even crossed my mind when I went in there. I could tell that one of the regular nurses started to get frustrated. She said my veins were even smaller than they usually are. It took her quite a while to locate one that she would even attempt to put an iv into. She started sweating and I felt soooo bad. I wish I could have just pointed to a spot anywhere on my body and said, there’s a vein! But there were literally no visible veins to be found.
So then came the manual search. She was gentle, like she usually is, but even just running a finger over my skin and some light tapping hurt. I felt as if I was covered in bruises. Except I wasn’t. I was just cold. After her 3rd failed attempt she called over another nurse who started with my hand, then worked her way up my arm, poking and patting and rubbing to try and get a vein to swell up enough for an iv needle to thread into. She said something about my arm being cold and commented on the fact that I appeared to be quite dehydrated. Something about the elasticity of my skin. I can’t remember exactly what it was that she said.
By this point the shivering had started. The first nurse took my socks off and started rubbing the top of my foot while the other one made several attempts at what she thought were strong veins. I had been fighting with every bit of strength I had to hold back tears but after another failed attempt at yet another promising vein – in my foot this time – a sob came out of my mouth. It actually took me off guard because I was not expecting it. I thought that the imaginary valve in the back of my throat was secure in the closed-off position but the force behind that sob blew right through it.
Somewhere along the line a 3rd nurse had come over and was rubbing my other foot. I didn’t remember her coming. It’s like she just appeared. She rubbed my leg and said, I’m only going to try once and if I don’t get it we’ll have to call Jackie. Jackie is one of the anaesthesiologists in the hospital and has been called on more than one occasion to come and place an iv in me. She’s never had to poke me more than 2 times and more often than not she got it in on the first try.
So that’s what happened. They called Jackie. In the meantime the nurses tidied up around my bed and got me a clean, warm blanket. They had used the other one to catch blood that had ran down my arm. They said they were going to give me a little break and then left me alone for a few minutes. I turned over on my side and held the blanket against my mouth and nose. I didn’t want anyone to hear me cry.
I stared at the curtain and just started praying. God, I can’t handle this … It’s too much. It hurts … it hurts all over. It doesn’t usually hurt this much. I don’t want them to touch me anymore. God, please … this is torture … I can’t …….... I know you’re here. You’re always with me. You tell me you’ll never leave me and I can come to you anytime. Well, I’m here and I really need you to be here too right now. God, please … make it stop ...
Jackie pulled up a chair and sat at the foot of my bed after a brief look over my arm and not finding anything of interest. She started rubbing my foot with her hands, to try and warm them up, she said. She told me to try and relax and to take a few deep breaths. With that little bit of compassion from her, I felt a fresh stream of tears run down from the corners of my eyes. She told me that if I take a few deep breaths it will help the blood to flow better through my veins and that my blood needs oxygen to flow properly.
Every time I tried to inhale my breath kept catching in my throat, which in turn led to a small gasp to get it back. It took several attempts before I got a good breath in but it really helped. I had started to feel like I was floating away. After a few good breaths I started to feel the bed beneath me again and I could feel Jackie patting the top of my foot. She spoke and told me to, stay really still now. I instantly lost my breath again. I felt the needle pierce the top of my foot and she slowly went deeper. I heard the click of the release button, indicating the iv was threaded into the vein and could be released from the needle. It’s in, she said. You need to breathe ….
And that’s all I remember. That was around 11am on Thursday. The next clear moment was when I felt Zoey’s wet nose against my arm around 9am Friday morning. Ketamine has that effect on me. It tends to wipe my memory clean of almost everything for 12 – 24 hours following the infusion.
My head felt like it had been smashed against a wall when I lifted it off my pillow this morning. I did a quick body scan to see if there was pain anywhere else. Nope. All clear! The first 24 – 48 hours after my Ketamine infusions are the closest I get to being ‘pain-free’. Today offered little space to appreciate the low pain level though. It was a freaking emotional roller-coaster inside of me today. Tears began shortly after I got up. I was washing my face and noticed that one of my earrings had fallen out at some point. This big wave of sadness just swept right over me and tears started falling. Wasn’t expecting that!
A little while later I was laying back on the couch and David was sitting on the opposite end. We were watching an episode of Station 19 on TV together and there was an intimate scene between a husband and wife. More tears … and no words to explain.
And that’s how the day has been. Little random things causing waves of tears. I was outside planting some things my therapist gave me, and tears were flowing. I accidentally bumped my leg, more tears. David called out and asked me to come outside so he could show me something and I cried while I walked out across the garden. Then just before I got in the shower I sat on the bench in the bathroom and cried even more. Like seriously. There was no end to the tears. And it all felt like it came from a gut-wrenching sadness that had tremendous force behind it. It could not, would not, be stifled.
The day is over now. It is late, or early, depending on how you see 3am. I’m reluctant to go to bed, as I sometimes find being in a horizontal position also heightens my emotions. And I’m feeling pretty raw as it is. But we are going out of town tomorrow, for the night. On Sunday our God-daughter has her very first communion and we’d like to be there with her. My face is swollen. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy. And my mood is all over the place. But the very least I can do is attempt to get a few hours of rest. Even if that means just lying still, with my eyes closed, while my brain continues trailing off.
Stillness is not effortless for me. It takes work sometimes. Wellness takes effort and I’m trying my best to do what I have to do, even when I don’t want to. Do what you have to do to make it to see one more sunrise. 🌻
That means you get to make mistakes, to learn, to grow, to make more mistakes, and learn from those too! This is how you gain wisdom!
I’ve been thinking about why some ppl change throughout their lives while others remain stuck. Why can 2 ppl both be in therapy for years and one grows, matures and heals while the other one spends their life stuck in their story?
I’ve been reading some studies on this very topic and they say that those of us who stay stuck stay in our heads, and we can re-traumatize ourselves by telling the same story over and over again. This keeps us surrounded by our shame. Not one person has ever healed through shame. This is so incredibly true for myself! I keep over intellectualizing my pain and trauma. I’ve been in therapy FOR YEARS and have learned so many facts about trauma. I’ve picked apart countless things that have happened to me. While this has made me much more aware of why things are the way they are in my life, it hasn’t helped me fix it.
My problem is that I’ve never allowed myself to feel the pain in my body. It has remained trapped, rolling around in my head. I can talk about things and stay just dissociated enough, to be able to think about it without feeling it. I can write in brutal detail about traumatic moments of my life but have no emotion. I can also accurately describe something in nature, beautiful scenes and breathtaking sunsets but I struggle to feel it in my body.
My journey towards coming into my body has been brutally slow and frustrating, often feeling as if I’m moving backwards. Baby steps, they say. Small steps, one at a time, letting things trickle as opposed to flooding, is easier for my nervous system to maintain. Emotions are hard for me, and even the positive ones require small doses. It gets overwhelming quite quickly and then I shut down. But I do believe I am able to do this, step by step. Seeing further than the very next moment isn’t easy without becoming overwhelmed, but the next moment is the only thing I need to worry about right now.
I’m not giving up. I deserve to feel in awe at the morning sunrise and joy when I hold a friend’s baby. It’s also OK for me to feel angry when I see someone bullying another person and to feel sad if someone hurts my feelings. It’s all part of being human.
And I’m giving myself permission to be human! I don’t want to be a cold, mechanical robot anymore!
A lot has happened over the past week. My uncle passed away which meant I had to go back to my hometown, which happens to be at the top of my list of least favorite places on earth.
The 2 days I was there have stirred up a lot of unwanted crap, bringing on a stream of anxiety. I’m drowning in waves of it. Just when I get myself back to baseline, my body stops trembling and I allow myself to take a breath, the air gets stuck in my throat and I start gasping again.
People don’t realize how much courage it takes to keep yourself from sinking into the dark pit of self hatred and negativity. To mentally remove yourself from a painful situation. To pick up all of your pieces from the ground, trusting that this process will eventually heal your wounds.
I know you’re feeling drained and exhausted right now, but you have to keep believing that things are going to get better.
I know you’re soul is tired, you’re mentally drained, and emotionally you feel broken, but the fact that you’re still breathing says a lot about that fighter inside of you. She’s still in there.
You’re allowed to be tired, but you must learn how to rest without giving up. You’re a work in progress and you have a future waiting for you.
So please hold on for just a little bit longer. I know you can do this!
Her Complex Musings 
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