Real Talk, Part 2

I am experiencing what has been called a significant emotional trauma. Two traumas, actually. The same "bomb" went off two different times. The first was August 24th of last year. The second was about two months ago.

It turns out that the bomb metaphor is actually a really good one. It's huge, devastating, unexpected. It's completely destructive and leaves nothing untouched. Although no literal lives were lost, there have been plenty of casualties. My ears are still ringing and I still can't seem to make sense of anything.

Another good metaphor for how I feel most of the time is drowning. I feel like I'm constantly kicking and fighting the current that's trying to pull me under, while wave after wave tries to swallow me whole. It's like I'm getting tossed around and thrown against rocks but I can't get my feet under me and I can't die. I'm stuck and I'm scared and I can't breathe.

Sometimes I think this must be what dying feels like.

Situational depression probably goes without saying. I'm a mess. With this as my reality, feeling depressed and hopeless and miserable and wanting to give up are easier. I want to be happy, but it's so hard. I get tired of trying sometimes. It's easier to dissolve into the pitiful lump that I feel like I am all the time. Sometimes I can't imagine being on the other side of this, and I can't believe that there is a future ahead of me that could possibly be worth enduring all this pain. I didn't ask for this. And I don't get to forget. I don't get to forget, even for a second, that my husband had an affair for over a year. I don't get to forget that he couldn't even pretend to put up a fight for me or for our marriage. I am constantly reminded of the most excruciating thing I've ever had to feel.

And still, the only way out seems to be through.

I can't go back, because there's nothing to go back to. I can't fast forward. I can't skip to the end. I just have to be in this for as long as it takes.

Sometimes I do have pretty great days. But it gets so frustrating to have a good day, or even a string of good days, followed by a breakdown or a nightmare. It's so discouraging and makes me feel like I'm moving backwards. But I'm slowly figuring out how to accept it. I'm learning how to let my process be what it is without giving it a label or assigning it good or bad, or right or wrong. Some days I cry and scream and break things and that's okay. Some days I'm more distractible and can get things done and have a good time, and that's also okay. This is where I am, and no amount of wishing will get me elsewhere. All I can do is
see it,
feel it,
learn it,
know it.
Respect it, because it's valid.
Be honest with it.
Ask for help when it gets too heavy.
And leave room for grace, because at the end of the day, no matter what the day looked like, I'm doing the best I can.

Because if I can do this, if I can survive this thing that keeps trying to kill me, then I can do anything.

Real Talk

Fact: I'm sad a lot.
Fact: Sometimes I spontaneously burst into tears just because it's been a while.
Fact: I don't sleep well and consistently haven't for 9 months (and counting!)
Fact: Some days, it's all I can do to get out of bed in the morning. (Some days I don't).
Fact: Sometimes the fact that I'm not an alcoholic feels like a huge personal victory.

I'm trying to figure out how to be okay with these things.

Sometimes I just don't want to do it anymore. So often I find myself thinking, "Can just one great thing please happen to me already?!" But would that even help? Maybe, maybe not. I'm trying to figure out how to grieve the things I've lost and also the things I thought I had that it turns out I didn't. I'm also trying to figure out how to grieve the future I thought was ahead of me and somehow create space for something totally new and unknown. It's completely exhausting. Also, horrible. So much of the time I want to stomp my feet and scream because I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE. I want to be done. I want to be happy and hopeful, but I have to work hard to be those things a lot of the time, and that's exhausting. Angry and sad and cynical and bitter are easier. They're bigger and louder and constantly screaming in my ear.

I'm feeling 74334579876421470 things all at once and learning how to let myself feel them and be okay with it, because they are real and valid and necessary. My brain knows this, but my heart is so tired. It's all so messy and complicated and it feels completely impossible. But it's the truth and it's real. It is what it is, and there's not a lot I can do except let it be and feel it; which I'd say is probably comparable to being on fire and also being run over by a steamroller while drowning. You may be thinking to yourself, "Those things can't happen all at once!" Well, I'm here to tell you that metaphorically, they sure as heck can. Spoiler alert: it's the pits.

It feels so unfair that most people have no idea how hard I'm working to keep my shit together. At all times. [Note: My shit is the furthest thing from together. I am constantly reminded of this. (See fire/steamroller/drowning comment above)]. But you can't just walk around like a humongous train wreck all the time because it freaks people out and gets in the way of things like having a job and being in public without people questioning your sanity.

I know that being in love isn't everything, but it's what my big gaping hole is shaped like right now. On my best days, I can believe I'm going to be okay. But on my worst days, I feel like this is slowly killing me. I have a lot of worst days. If I can't be honest about that, I'm pretty sure it's only going to kill me faster.

So I'm cutting myself some slack and trying to remember to leave room for grace. After all, I'm making it up as I go and doing the best I can. It's hard and it hurts all the time but I'm doing it.

Hope is exhausting.

Thoughts In Response To 13 Reasons Why

I just finished watching 13 Reasons Why.

I read the book about three years ago and really loved it, so I was disappointed to hear so many negative reviews about the Netflix series. I started hearing words like "triggering" and "dangerous" and worried that I was misremembering something, or that maybe I was wrong for liking it in the first place. After finishing the series tonight though, I stand by my original assessment. Overall, I loved it, although I do see a lot of valid points being made against it. I believe it is absolutely triggering for a lot of people, and I applaud those who are able to recognize that and steer clear. The decision of whether or not to watch this show requires a lot of self-awareness. It will be eye-opening for some and poison for others. (I also think that's true about a lot of things, and not just this particular show. Everything is controversial these days). It was definitely, at times, extremely difficult to watch. I watched much of the finale through my fingers and cried. It's heavy and so heartbreaking. But it's also a reality for so many people. My hope is that amid anger at the show's flaws, we also leave room to grieve the lost and hurt with the hurting.

I may be one of few people who has struggled with self-harm and thoughts of suicide  and wasn't triggered by the show. I credit some of that to already knowing what happens, having read the book. It's easier for me to compartmentalize this particular story as fiction, and I really respect Jay Asher's boldness and willingness to address such a sensitive topic. He created a plot that I found entertaining and suspenseful, and brought characters to life that I either strongly connected with or seriously hated. I emotionally invested in the story and in the characters. The plot demanded my attention. It's fiction, but it's exactly the kind of thing that could happen. That does happen. That's the kind of story I love to read: real, raw, honest. That, in my opinion, is creative brilliance.

I also think the story makes a lot of important points that deserve attention:
- How we treat each other matters.
- We take a lot for granted.
- Our actions have consequences (and we need to take responsibility for both the actions and the consequences).
- Pain is real. [Soapbox: I am a nurse. In health care, pain is considered the sixth vital sign (along with temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, respiratory rate, and oxygen saturation). Pain is literally defined as whatever the person feeling it says it is. We treat it objectively. I so strongly believe that this should be true of all pain: mental, emotional, spiritual. You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't be feeling just like I don't get to tell you what you should or shouldn't feel. Pain is real and alive and should be treated as such.]
- You never know what's going on in someone else's head or heart.
- Assumptions are dangerous.
- We only see what other people let us see and vice versa.
- Secrets can kill. Literally and metaphorically. (This one goes deep for me, but more on that another time).

I hope this series gets people talking even more than they already are. We need to talk about the hard things. We all deserve to feel freedom to say what we think and how we feel, even and especially when it's hard. Because life is hard and being a person is hard and we're all in this together. When it comes to the show, do you. Love it, hate it, watch it, or don't. Either way, I strongly encourage you to join the conversation.

Let's talk about pain.
Let's talk about bullying.
Let's talk about mental health.
Let's talk about suicide.
Let's talk about raising awareness.
Let's talk about how to treat each other well.

And let's love each other, because we're all we've got.

If Grief Was A Line

Some days, you wake up with grief sitting on your chest.
Other days, it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
Some days you wear it like a harness that's too tight, while other days you can hold it at arms length.
Sometimes it infuses the very air you breathe, making everything feel heavy and humid.
(Sometimes it feels like that for days, or even weeks at a time).
Sometimes it's triggered by something seemingly insignificant; a song, a place, a smell.
Sometimes it's triggered by something that wasn't a trigger yesterday.
Grief is confusing like that.
Some days, you might be able to leave grief at home.
Other days, it underlines every thought, every word.
Grief can make you forget things.
Sometimes it whispers, sometimes it shouts.
Sometimes grief controls your dreams.
(We grieve awake and asleep, you know).
If grief was a line, we might have a better idea of what to expect and when to expect it.
If grief was a line, we could prepare ourselves. Plan better.
If grief was a line, we might have come up with a solution by now.
If grief was a line, it might make sense.
Grief is not a line.
Grief is a minefield.

27

I turn 27 today. 

Chronologically, not exactly a big one. But this birthday is a big deal for me, mostly because of how hard I've worked to get here.

Turning 27 marks surviving what has easily been the the most difficult year of my life (which is possibly the understatement of the year). It also represents the slow and (at times) painful transition from surviving to thriving. Several months ago, life as I knew it came to an abrupt halt. A lot of things were broken and taken away from me and replaced with feelings of fear, hopelessness, abandonment, and pessimism. For that reason, I've had to unlearn a lot of untrue things about myself and unbelieve a lot of lies. For me, 27 is a fresh start as my best self, and is choosing to believe that the best is yet to come. I am stronger, more confident, and more self-aware than I've ever been. I know what I'm capable of and what I'm worthy of and I'm not willing to settle for less. I know who I am, and I believe that I have something beautiful to offer the world that no one else can.

27 is going to look very, very different than 26 in some of the scariest ways. However, I have never in my life felt more loved, cherished, valued, and supported than I do right now; which, all things considered, is pretty incredible.

27 is beauty from ashes.

So, 

Cheers to 27:

To starting over, 

To healing, 

To rebuilding, 

To dreaming big, 

To shooting for the moon,

And to doing the impossible.

Just Do It

If there's one thing I've learned in the last 8 months it's that life is  f r a g i l e. It's so easy to get caught up in believing that you've got your whole life ahead of you -- the long, [mostly] happy and healthy, [generally] disaster-free life where you fall in love, get married, have kids, have a career, and die of old age. We forget that tomorrow was never promised to us and that life can drastically change course in a split second.

The fact is, you never know when a bomb is going to go off. You don't expect a best friend to get a terminal cancer diagnosis, or your marriage to explode, or to get t-boned by a maniac in a stolen Prius going 90 mph. For a long time I believed the lie that the really devastating things happen to other people. Friends of friends. Close enough to cause me some discomfort without really having a direct impact on my life.

Consider me humbled. Anything is possible and I am not immune.

As a result, I'm learning to hold loosely to things and take nothing for granted. Things are things and can be replaced. Plans can change without it being the end of the world. Other people's opinions of me are none of my business (and I'm much happier not caring what they are, anyway). I'm learning to relax my grip, let go of my need for control, and take things as they come. I can't afford to waste time sweating the small things anymore.

This change in perspective has been a pretty serious wake-up call for me. Life is far too short to waste it creating a long list of "maybe someday"s. Someday isn't even a real thing. So now I'm constantly asking myself questions like why not? and if not now, when? I cringe at the thought of leaving this life with a bucket list of things I never got around to doing. I'm the only one that can make them happen. And so I find myself with this new, super cliché, Nike-esque just do it attitude. Because I can't come up with a single good reason not to.

Instead of talking about doing things I want to do, I'm figuring out how to make them happen. For me, that most often looks like just booking the trip or buying the Justin Bieber tickets. It's getting my Pediatric Nurse certification and applying for my dream job. It's training for the half marathon. It's dying my hair pink and blue and purple and whatever color I happen to feel like dying it next. It's trying new things and going places I've never been. It's letting my dreams get big and doing whatever it takes to make them a reality.

I'm not endorsing a frivolous, irresponsible lifestyle here. I'm simply pointing out that life can tend to get away from us. If you want something, find a way to make it happen. Don't make excuses not to do the things you love and dream about. Go get them, because chances are they won't just fall into your lap. Life is fragile, and you only get one. Make it count while you still can.


"Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all." - Helen Keller

Empathy Part II

Over the past six months, I've had this shift in perspective. Walking through something so painful and so seemingly impossible has made me extremely aware of the fact that every single person I encounter is dealing with pain to some degree. Maybe it's simply having to experience this great pain, or maybe it's the handful of people who have shown me such great empathy, but these are things that I have become almost constantly aware of lately and are becoming important parts of how I love people.

1.) Say what you see. This one is so simple but has been so huge for me. A genuine, heartfelt compliment can really go a long way, especially when someone is having a bad day. If you notice someone looking especially nice that day, tell them. Noticing things like that and keeping them to ourselves doesn't serve anyone. There is absolutely no sense in having a kind thought and letting it suffocate. Release it and let its magic surprise you! Draw attention to the good things. Sometimes acknowledging the seemingly small things is enough to draw attention away from the bad ones, if even for a little bit.

2.) Tell people when they're doing a good job. This seems like an obvious thing, but I really don't think we do it enough. I'm someone who tends to get stuck in my head a lot. Having my efforts acknowledged in a positive way, even if they're an expected part of the job I do every day, is huge for me. Being told, "good job" feels a little like being told, "hey, I see you," and being seen is one of the best feelings.

2.5.) Tell other people when someone is doing a good job. Manage people up!

3.) Acknowledge the hard things. It's okay to acknowledge that what someone's dealing with is hard. Personally, it's one of the very few things I never mind hearing, because it's always true. Hearing someone say something like, "I'm so sorry this is so hard" is unbelievably validating. When someone's doing something hard, acknowledge it and remind them how great they are for doing it. This type of validation should always be paralleled by encouragement.

4.) Say true things. This one isn't just about not lying. Be intentional about honoring what's true. Speak truth and speak life.

People are fragile, but we are also resilient. I'm finding strength I never dreamed I was capable of. I'm currently learning so much about who I am, what's important to me, and what I need, and I'm beginning to see how these things impact my relationships and interactions with other people. My heightened self-awareness is turning into a heightened awareness of the people around me.

We need each other. (Pass it on).