APPLE TO ORANGES

“Whatever happens to you, belongs to you. Make it yours. Feed it to yourself, even if it feels impossible to swallow. Let it nurture you, because it will. “ – Cheryl Strayed

There were many years I truly believed it was impossible to take any more blows. I was sure that there was no humanly way possible to survive them if I was forced to take another hit. I thought I was the only one that endured that kind of tragedy and pain to the extent I did and within the short amount of time that I did. In the same breath I’d find myself looking around and thinking ‘don’t complain, it can always be worse, you have so much to be grateful for.’ But I was wrong – about most of it.

Maybe by constantly feeling as if I had to bury it, that I wasn’t ‘allowed’ to complain, vent or cry about it – I was only making it worse. Maybe feeling like my circumstances were less then so many others or that I didn’t have the right to feel and think the way I did, only prolonged my healing further. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had alot of safe havens and wonderfully supportive people in my life (God only knows they listened to me like a broken record of the Titanic song replaying over and oveeeeer!!  Even though I had those outlets I was still always thinking I didn’t have the right to feel bad, sad or mad about certain parts of it. And more importantly I think the focus of those venting sessions were being placed on things and people that, at the time I thought were the issues. Primarily because I couldn’t say what I was actually thinking, or perhaps I just didn’t allow myself to go there mentally. It was as if the only emotion tied to her was sadness and the only one tied to him was anger. I couldn’t be mad at her or sad over him because it wasn’t her fault she felt that way and I couldn’t cry about someone who I was supposed to be happy I was rid of. It’s as if it’s ingrained in us to always remember ‘it could be worse’ or ‘at least you aren’t them!’ So, while I had outlets, I was always playing this game with myself that I needed to quit, needed to get over it, needed to stop thinking or feeling certain things as they arose. So, instead I’d go back to my default emotion and cry or rage depending on which one it pertain too 

There’s this constant comparison in our world that we always need to shut up and just be thankful. While gratitude is important, burning our stories and emotions surrounding them, only further suppresses what is already there. We have every right to endure them in whatever manner we need too in order to work through them. It’s as if we can better justify what’s going on in our life at the time by doing things such as self talk like ‘get over it’ or ‘just be grateful’. Maybe that’s why we endure those relationships for far longer then we ever should’ve allowed, wallow in guilt or pity towards others, staying bound to their ways, or stay in our own hellhole of a prison, induced by depression and self hate for years beyond what was needed. Maybe by just owning it and feeling every terrible aspect of it, we’d be able to move through it faster.

Now, 8 years after her death and 7 post separation, I’ve had to relive every dirty and sickening detail of both. And each time they’ve resurfaced, they’ve come back at a greater intensity because of it. So, maybe you should scream into your pillow when you need too, cry in the middle of the store because you thought for a split second you seen a glimpse of them, laugh because that song that just came on triggered a memory. Maybe there isn’t an answer for everything, maybe we need to feel it for what it is because it’s our story. Maybe the constant comparison is doing nothing but driving us all deeper into a state of hell and oblivion. Maybe instead of thinking we’re entitled to all the material things around us, we should realize we’re entitled to our emotions surrounding our circumstances. Maybe then there’d be less holes in the walls or terrible things said and done, maybe there’d be less depressive states, less cheating, less hate and anger. Maybe if we’d just allow ourselves to act or react at the time that the actual emotion occurs instead of telling ourselves how ridiculous we’ll look crying for no reason, or screaming in our car at a red light is taboo, the only ones we’re hurting is ourselves.

Healing comes from within, and it comes from no one but ourselves. Maybe when we just being a little truer to our emotions as they arise, truer to our journey and hardships as they cross our paths, maybe we can move forward – for real. It’s OK if you feel like your world is falling apart on account of a break-up, or that you won’t survive if you loose your parent to a disease, or that you can’t possibly face another soul in public after an embarrassing charade at the local saloon or that you’ll be a let down if you lose your job. It’s OK because I know what all of them feel like.

 When you look at the grand scheme of things – it’s terrible right then and there, but then again, it was terrible in 9th grade when the opposite sex turned you down. It was terrible when you rolled your car in your driveway (oh wait, maybe I’m the only one that’s ever done that ahahahaaa) It was terrible to get the rejection letter to your college of choice or first pick job. many have been terrible in your life, and at the time, they needed to be and were warranted for their own reasons, but you survived them too. Maybe the trick to surviving has more to do with being OK that things are shit right then, and less to do with comparing our story to the next persons. Maybe while saying our ‘gratefuls’ we can also curse and cry about the things that aren’t so great. Either way, it’s worth a try to allow yourself to feel every corner of grief, of loss, of the unknown, of being scared shitless, of anger, rage hate, fear, sadness and love all at once! (Yep, there are days it happens just like that – one big ball of ‘holy shit – I’m laughing through my tears while punching my pillow! As different and unique as all of our stories are in so many ways, maybe our reactions behind them aren’t as crazy as they may seem, or not to the extent that we feed ourselves anyways.

Continue reading Blind Faith

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