“Nothing heals, helps, cures, mends, builds, clears, stabilizes, fixes, balances, restores, corrects, inspires, enables, empowers, enlightens or tickles, better than the truth.” ~Tut.com
These past few weeks came with a plethora of emotions: Highs and lows, excitement and fear, love and indifference, anger then hurt, then back to happiness and joy. From getting my daughter ready for her first trip to Florida, to finding out she’s accepted at the College she chose, to dealing with my own « whateveryouwannacallthem » emotions.
I’m cracking up here (and not the laughing kind)
I am shattered and a bit broken, at least I feel like I am. Not like when my depression started, then, I felt ruptured and embittered. However, this time, I feel like I am going to fracture again, allowing dark, reddish bad smelling ooze seep through my bones. In therapy, in the safety of the little office that holds 3 lamps, 2 chairs and a desk, I can take a look at my war wounds, and see what they are telling me. I shower them with love in a place so safe that I let my inner child run free.
My therapist, has a way of helping me see things as they are, as if she put these « truth colored glasses » on my face, allowing me to validate that I am moving forward, into this new life of mine, with grace and dignity. Thus, facing the genuineness of my emotions, I can clean whatever feels dirty in me.
“There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.”
― Søren Kierkegaard
…yet, when I get home, sometimes the truth is not what I see, but what my inner teen sees. She is most definitely NOT wearing the glasses I had on earlier. She sees everything like it is the end off all time. She hates herself so much, that she teaches people how to really treat her by emulating self loathing. I mean, it must be normal to feel this way, if that is all she knows.
Breakin’ the laws of self-love
When I was a teen, I do not remember all this self-yuck (because I blocked most of it), but I do remember often feeling out-of-place, lonely and weird. I felt like I didn’t belong to one particular group, so I adhered to many, never feeling as if I fit in, and as my late teens surfaced, and I graduated from high school, I put myself in situations, that only my therapist and a few very trustworthy friends know.
It is not the time yet, to open up this box here on my blog, yet, know that I am carrying baggage I am not proud of. Things, I allowed to happen to me, and certainly not safe; even dangerous. Looking back in time, I was adrift; thus, trying to find my place in the world. I was also rebelling, rebelling at 19 because at 14 I was too busy making sure everyone else was all right.
At 19, I broke away from family. I didn’t call them very often, because I was hiding from myself. God forbid they found out what I was really doing. When we spoke on the phone, I wore the « good girl mask » I faked a telephone smile and assured them I was fine, just working as a waitress in a bar, nothing special. When in fact, I was living with an alcoholic man, in a drug infested apartment, where the goings and comings were too scary to even write down here.
Thank God I was not into drugs myself.
And, now, here I am, 28 years later, experiencing the pain for the first time, physically alone, and I am scared. In the past, I would grab on to any man, in order NOT to feel. This time alone with myself, in solitary with my torment, I take solace in knowing, I am ready to face this head on. I am willing to look at the remnants without peeking through my fingers. I see… I feel.. and I release.
“Pain is a pesky part of being human, I’ve learned it feels like a stab wound to the heart, something I wish we could all do without, in our lives here. Pain is a sudden hurt that can’t be escaped. But then I have also learned that because of pain, I can feel the beauty, tenderness, and freedom of healing. Pain feels like a fast stab wound to the heart. But then healing feels like the wind against your face when you are spreading your wings and flying through the air! We may not have wings growing out of our backs, but healing is the closest thing that will give us that wind against our faces.”
― C. JoyBell C.
Last night, as I was trying to sleep, I felt the fear so strong, that I could not contain my tears. I started shaking my legs hoping to mask my frustration, and tried to think happy thoughts, but to no avail. Whatever it was that was bothering me needed to escape.
I sat up, at the edge of my bed, and rocked as sobs or sorrow filled my eyes, and choked my lungs. I was crying so hard I could not breathe, and I could feel the red ooze coming out and clearing… and even though I try to remain silent, these were the kind of tears that come out loud. My son, at that moment, gently opened the door to his room, tip toed towards me, sat down, and put his big, now young man arms, around me, and let me cry.
Just writing this here, brings more tears to my eyes… and the child I have raised, is now the one consoling me. His heart, as big as the sun, was a heart I helped grow. Knowing that he is at the age I was when I started to really berate myself, I said to him : « You are the best William I know in the whole world , and me crying here, is not your fault, you know that right? » He said : « I know mom, its ok, you are allowed to cry »
Who taught him that?
I thought I saw a pair of « truth colored glasses » around here. 🙂
… to be continued..