Methinks maybe I spoke to soon. I don't know. I feel so darn fragile. Last night's acupuncture was hard. An hour lying there with just me, myselves and I, my misgivings, my regret, my disappointment. Hm. Not so good.
It is as if I am really good at moving from acute hell to a skinned over place that feels more superficially whole, and I think SEE? THERE! I'M OK! When really? I am still a bag-o-shards. It does not take much to puncture the veneer. And the worst part? I'm so good at faking myself out that I'm surprised when it happens, when the punctures occur, which is crazylunacy.
I realized yesterday that a good word for my current state is brittle, which sounds bitter and isn't, or angry and isn't, but it does speak to a certain lack of resilience and elasticity. Right now, it takes nothing to set me off, make me teary, make my heart feel like it is sinking. I've talked a lot here about coping, and being FINE, and yeah, I am coping, I am fine. But I am also not fine and it is really hard to admit that, even to me.
Last night my darlin' surprised me with a disco ball, music, and slow dancing in the living room. It was lovely even though my mood made me feel more tender than anything and I felt more like crying than laughing (WHICH SUCKS).
(I should title this post: In Which Kate Uses Random Capitalization to Make a Point or Two)
The truth is, I am bad at feeling bad. I have no patience for it. Reject it as OTHER. It is not me, I am buoyant, so what the fuck? I wonder if for a moment, I could do what my sweet sister suggested and say, I have a right to feel bad. This sucks ass.
and so I say to myself. see? you? feeling bad? (baby typing with question marks)
THAT MAKES SENSE. But I hate it.
But, what if I simply allowed it.
BUT! (I say) I HATE IT!
Yeah yeah, katekate I know you do, I hear you. you hate it. I get that. but allow does not mean embrace or embody. and it may mean not fighting myself in every moment.
So in this land that is full of what ifs,
I wonder,
what if, for the next 10 seconds, I just allowed myself to feel what I feel, even if I wish it were different.
***
the answer?
I feel softer. like for those 10 seconds i was not battling myself.
hmm. isn't that something.
13 comments:
you are so beautiful, kate.
here's to many more 10 second increments of softness.
xo
Its a difficult balance to try to be okay and pull yourself out of the sadness that can lead to depression and more, but also to balance being true to your emotions and being authentic to how you truly feel. My thoughts are with you. As you know, what you feel is normal and justified but it does not make anything easier. *hugs*
Thinking of you, Kate. Sitting in my new office, wishing I could just stop by with tea and toast. I'm glad you're allowing yourself to just be. It's harder than any amount of DOING can be.
Yep, you're poetic. And more self-aware than most people I know.
You have a right to feel mad/sad, and to feel brittle (what a great word for it). Cry if you need to. A good snivel/sob always helps me to feel better. Even if I end up with red puffy eyes and a plugged up nose at the end of it.
Your DH sounds just as fantastic as you do - I'm glad you have him to hold on to.
You do have talent indeed. I wish you could you use your talents to describe joy.
Soon, I hope, you can write for all of us.
thinking of you also.
EB
I don't know what to say, except this post means a lot to me, and I really do hope you get to feel more 'softer' moments.
(eye contact, comfortable silence and nodding)
Love,
Maddy
Oh sweet Kate... I have no words. Sending hugs.
Brittle - that's so completely accurate. I'm glad you felt a bit softer, the sadness and grief and wanting are so so hard and sharp.
((hugs)) for you sweetkate.
brittle is sucha descriptive perfect word for those feelings, here is to feeling softer....more, even if in 10 second intervals
You are in my thoughts daily, Kate. Although our paths have temporarily diverged, I can so relate to your expression of your feelings and state of being-- I've been brittle for many years. 11 years of infertility does take its toll. I greatly admire your courage, strength and yes, your self-awareness. Hoping with every ounce of my being that your song has reason for unbridled joy soon!
Thinking of you. We had a hummingbird at the feeder over Thanksgiving weekend. I rushed out and cleaned and refilled the feeder and we've had them in the yard ever since. Anna's hummingbirds, I guess. They're just a little bit bigger enough to make it through winters here. Hummingbirds in the winter are, in a word, magic. I wish I could send you one. Love,
Elizabeth
I hate that the fight to overcome IF becomes so frequently a fight against ourselves, a battle between hope and despair. Even when you're blue and hurting, you're still you. We see that. And we're here to prop you up when you allow yourself to be soft.
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