I didn’t write yesterday. I sat down a few times, typed out a few things, deleted and stopped. I had had a bad day. Frankly, still am. I hate typing that. People get so encouraged when there is progress. I hate to disappoint. But…it is what it is. It is part of the human experience to have up and down days. Two steps forward, one step back. So I decided to take a day yesterday and instead of looking forward, I looked back.
Going through this stuff, working through the pain I’ve had for years and the trauma I’ve hidden…it’s sort of like watching paint dry. I don’t really see the progress. So I wanted to look back and see if I’ve actually traveled anywhere or if I’m stuck. Even though the last couple of days I’ve taken a steps back, I can see that I’m not stuck. At all. I looked back to mid-March when all hell broke loose. And I looked to see what has changed in those 60 days.
Mid-March is when the quarantine started to take place. It’s an enormously anxious time for the entire world. And has been for 60 days and continues to be. For all the obvious reasons. Either it’s anxious because of the disease or it’s anxious because of the cure. Hard to tell which is worse.
Mid-March is when I bottomed out on the pain and the trauma. Where I thought I had a lot of room for more grains of rice, I realized I had no room and all of the sudden it wasn’t one grain of rice that hit my scales, it was many grains and I tipped over. The pain was unbearable and the trauma couldn’t be stuffed away anymore.
Mid-March was when I was in the middle of an extremely stressful work situation, I trusted people I shouldn’t have, chest pain was really high and constant, trauma memories couldn’t be held back anymore, virus and kids having to work online and leave college and come home and my mom was stuck in a hospital with a staph infection.
It was a lot.
I bottomed. I believed I was a burden to the world and that the burdens I was carrying were too much. Atlas’ knees buckled. The trauma and pain had told me for 40 years that my lot in life was to be a pony express horse. Ridden hard then tossed away for a fresh horse. I believed I was only worth something in this world was if I was the fastest horse and I never stopped running.
It was a lot. Any one of those things was a lot.
“A single grain of rice can tip the scales”. What movie is that from?
But the reality is it’s not a single grain of rice. It’s a large amount of rice. I tend to get frustrated with the last grain that tipped the scale but the reality is, it wasn’t one grain of rice that tipped the scale, it has been a lot over the past 6 months. A lot.
But as I look back, I see a lot of paint has dried.
I have accepted help…and no longer feel guilty. I am creating space for myself instead of “squeezing in” time for myself…and don’t feel “too” guilty. When I have an episode and someone notices I apologize for it less. I’m being more honest with myself and others about how I’m doing. And even with dealing with the past betrayal as well as a recent one, I’m more trusting people close to me who care.
So the last few days weren’t great. Painful. Feeling unsafe and anxious. Steps back. I feel like I’m disappointing people. I want to be more positive and the reality is I’m hopeful.
But the last few days were hard and the grain of rice that tipped the scale was a big grain. It threatened me. Yet out of the blue a friend stopped by today with donuts and coffee. Just to be kind. That also was a big grain…
Brint's Blog 