Last night as I lay in bed I felt shame.
Shame for allowing myself to be sad and for voicing it when I have so much to be grateful for.
The saying ‘there are others a lot worse off than you’ came to mind.
Then I wondered – who then, is within their rights to express their sadness or fears?
The person who has lost a limb? But there is someone who has lost two – or was born with none.
The person who is undergoing chemotherapy? There is someone who is terminally ill with no resources for any treatment at all.
The person who has lost the love of their life? There are people who have never known love.
These thoughts flooded my head with examples ad infinitum.
My last thought before I found sleep, was the realization that I was looking for excuses for my behavior.
And that was unacceptable to me.
This morning, with a rested body and a more positive attitude, I was able to examine those thoughts without the end game being an argument for my negativity.
Sadness must be felt.
It must be because it is.
As simple as that.
It should never be discounted.
We should not tell people ‘you shouldn’t feel that way.’
Feeling pain or disappointment or fear is okay.
It must be felt.
Embraced – released – and remembered.
Letting go doesn’t mean you’re erasing something – it means you’re acknowledging that you don’t have to stay with it.
But to forget cripples our growth.
How are we to be grateful for good when we have not fully experienced bad?
How to know joy when sadness was hurried away? Brushed off as if it had no right to be on our shoulders?
As long as I can look fear or pain or sadness in the eye and ask the right question ‘What can I do about this?’ I should not be ashamed.
But never should I sit in discontent without voice or action.
A friend asked me what was going on and how was I feeling this morning – he said “Your blog post was a big downer …”
My first reaction to that was that today’s post needed to be a super upbeat, a “I’m SO grateful, joyous” positive post to make up for yesterdays sad one.
But I am not going to do that.
I get tired of apologizing for being human.
I have said before and I’ll say it again, I really don’t tend to edit myself. Ask me a question, I’ll answer it. You know where you stand with me.
This bleeds over to my blog. I keep identities secret, but not my feelings. And I’m not about to start now.
I received an instant message from a dear friend of mine last night after I published Dirt and destiny, and we typed back and forth and I sat there, on my porch, and I cried.
It felt SO good and was just what I needed.
Not maudlin, not sobbing, not gut wrenching ‘why me’ – ‘poor me’ crying … just, cleansing tears.
Acknowledging that I was sad and scared and unsure. Letting a long week out onto my cheeks.
She said just the right things. Things I needed to hear. That it was okay to want things for myself sometimes too. To consider myself. That I deserve to be happy.
I fight this.
I find myself constantly trying to make amends for my past by not allowing the notion that I could deserve to be happy to blossom.
I should clarify – I AM ‘happy’ … we are speaking of ‘happy-ever-after’ happy.
Once you have come to the above conclusion – once you have found what and who you want, you recognize that there are only so many tomorrows. And maybe there isn’t even another ‘tomorrow’.
I’ve also been taught that if there is nothing you can do – do the next right thing. So, I’ve been to the laundromat, washed the dog – and after this post I’ll clean and find time to rest.
I’ll read one of the books I’m currently reading and breath.
I tend to succeed in pushing through tough times. And when I’m uncertain or worried, I find the light and grow through it.
I also have to remember, that my imagination amplifies every situation. I have to decide how to feel. And in the end, I always choose happy.
I did something today I haven’t done in the two years I’ve been at my current job. I called in sick. Well, I emailed in sick to be accurate.
While the frequency of my mouth pain has substantially subsided, it still comes out of nowhere and WHAM! Instant debilitation.
I did not want to stray far from my heating pad and, until the antibiotics kick in, am only finding relief ultimately from pain pills that I should not be taking and driving.
Nor should I be making calculated decisions, sitting upright or operating heavy machinery (like a work computer – my home one doesn’t count, if I type something wrong here, it’s not going to affect the outcome of a home purchase.)
I’m also in a bit of a dark place.
I think when we’re not feeling well, we’re more susceptible to letting our demons in. I’ve been cranky and sad, bitter and broody. I counter every thought in my head with a chastising and put myself in a time-out. I’m aware of the bullshit that is going through my head and I know that it stems from not feeling well.
It’s still scary though.
I do not like not feeling like ‘myself’. Funny, considering this is the same body that craved that exact result for so many years.
I’ve also come to the conclusion that funny and happy are much more appealing topics than serious or sad ones.
To healthy people anyway.
So instead of feeling slighted that when I got few responses to the posts that only consisted of updates about how miserable I was feeling – I should be ecstatic that I have healthy people in my life.
Turn it around.
That’s what I’ve been doing during some darker moments.
I felt like a monster yesterday and this morning when I could imagine putting a bullet through my dog’s head as she barked non-stop out of the window.
I had to pick through that. I know I could never – would never do such a thing. I walk around bugs on the ground for crying out loud!
But as I lay on the couch, trying to rest – trying to gain some ground on my return to ‘me’, I didn’t want to hear one more yap.
Turn it around.
She’s guarding her family. Albeit, from an innocuous car driving by the house or perhaps a feral rabbit hopping by the fence, but for all intents and purposes, she is barking for good.
So I gave her a squeaky toy and a chewy treat, not a bullet.
I’ve also been scared.
That first night – the worst night – I knew there was no one to turn to. No one to step up and take the lead. No one to take care of me.
This is by my own choosing, I know this. But the older I get, the harder it is ‘going it alone’.
It’s not fair that my son had to play that role.
He put his arms around me on the couch as I sobbed out in pain and rocked me back and forth.
It reminded me of the book ‘Love you Forever’. When the grown man comes to his ailing, old mother and sings her the song she sang to him so many times.
He is not a grown man.
But he intuitively knew what was happening was no joke – and I needed comfort.
This past weekend he went to the grocery store for me, he brought me soft food and he was kind and sweet and loving.
A friend stopped by, not even knowing exactly where I lived – but she found my car after driving around.
So, I know there are people I can reach out to – but it’s very, very hard for me to do.
I can’t look someone in the eye and say “I need help”.
I use my words. My written words – to express how I’m feeling.
It’s cathartic and feels safe. I don’t have to watch body language or facial expressions and have my warped sense of pride spit out an inaccurate reading.
My written words I trust. I’ve always been able to say what I want to say on paper – or now, a screen.
What I want to say is, I need people. I am scared of doing everything alone and I can’t do it all. I don’t want to.
My pride has got in the way for years.
I know this. But I don’t know what to do about it.
I had multiple people offer to loan me the money for the dental procedure – but I turned them all down. I didn’t want to owe my friends money. And when something isn’t hurting, it’s very easy to prioritize something else.
I’ve come a long way. But there’s a hard-wired need to take care of things by myself. Not depend on anyone. Who knows why. That’s a whole couch session. Let down in the past, abandonment, or – letting someone help me and having it lorded over me. A number of reasons.
But, I have proven I’m self-sufficient to a point of selfishness.
Something to think about.
I need to decide to let people in. There are so many amazing souls in my life that I keep back behind a line I have drawn in my sand.
I didn’t just build a wall, I built a tower. I locked myself inside of it and only rapelled down to go to work or fetch supplies.
I kept my son in there too – sheltered and watching me guard my self-imposed prison – Queen of my castle.
You know, in dreams, teeth represent anxieties and problems. Perhaps in ignoring my anxieties until they hurt so much and knocked me on my arse, I’ve finally got the chance to fix them.
Once I have this problem pulled, I’ll work on getting the rest of me healthy.