Not right now.
And that's okay.
If there's anything worse than feeling like you're in the darkest place of your life, it's feeling like you're in the darkest place of your life and you should be able to fix it.
And yet, you haven't a clue what you can do. And even if you had a clue, you aren't sure you even want to fix it.
You're tired.
You're defeated.
You're paralyzed.
So...
What do you do when none of the so-called solutions fit right now?
What do you do when others' stories don't match yours? When your husband isn't following the script? When you're exhausted from sleepless nights? When none of his promises mean anything? When none of this feels like it could ever turn out to be even remotely okay? When none of your so-called choices are good ones? When you're left with bad and worse?
What do you do?
Nothing.
Doing nothing can feel radical. It can feel dangerous. We're a culture that rewards action. That rewards badasses who scream like hell about injustice, who take no prisoners.
Where's the glory in pulling the sheets over your head? Where's the power in curling up on the floor with the dog and sobbing into his neck?
But, even though it might feel counter-intuitive, even though it might feel scary, like if you loosen your grip for even a second any forward momentum you might have achieved will vanish like smoke, even though...
Nothing.
Well, not exactly nothing.
Doing nothing is doing something. It's letting yourself rest. It's letting your poor overworked brain stop trying to brainstorm your way out of this. It's trusting that you can loosen your grip and regain some strength.
Glennon Doyle puts it this way: First the pain. Then the waiting. Then the rising.
Waiting can feel like hell. But it's a crucial part of this.
So, my dear wounded sister, everything in your response tells me that you're in the waiting period. The fallow period. When seeds are being planted but you don't yet see what's growing because it's deep in the ground.
Trust that you are healing. And that when the time is ready, you will feel stronger and clearer. None of this is easy. Hard news but the truth. But when it feels impossible, that's your cue to...rest. To wait.
And then, when you're ready, to rise again.
Thank you Elle.
ReplyDeleteI really really needed this post.
It brought tears to my eyes as I read it, and felt heard. I felt like someone was listening, and someone understood.
I haven't felt that for months.
Life has rattled on alongside me, I have kept myself busy every minute almost - even when I am resting, I am "doing something" with my rest. I am trying to busy my brain, shut it up from all the over thinking - which doesnt work, I just overthink in the gaps that obviously are still there between the jobs I try to do.
It is so so hard and lonely to walk this path that we are all on. Friends and family either don't know, or don't want to know. None of them know the full extent of it in the slightest.
Even here has felt lonely of late, when I realise that I am not finding the positive, and not putting down boundaries, or finding a "better me" out of all this, so today, this post, meant the world to me. It was beautifully written and perfectly timed for where I am.
It meant that maybe it is ok to be feeling like this. That "not moving on" is maybe a necessary step.
Its been a LONG step - I have felt this way for about a year, and so I still feel horribly anxious that I cant find a way out or forward, but to know that it is possibly ok, and even necessary, and even if neither of those, to know you hear us, understand us, and care, and listen... it was overwhelming.
So thank you.
It
Thank you for this, Elle. Thank you for giving hope to the hopeless. Thank you for the wisdom we so desperately need but don't know it for ourselves yet. Thank you for showing us what we don't see in ourselves. Thank you for sharing your story and the wisdom gained so that we can someday find that in ourselves. Thank you for being the light at the end of that razor lined tunnel.
ReplyDeleteI remember the first time I found your blog just about 3 years ago, and how I wept because I finally knew I wasn't crazy or going to die or become a fat Italian woman with a hairy upper lip. I didn't know then that I found my lifeline. All of us here understand what "death by a thousand cuts" feels like. Many of us know what it is to feel those wounds healing by our own means. I for myself look back now and am in awe of how far I have come from that deep abyss of darkness and pain. I never thought I would find joy in just being alive back then, but I have, and so will anyone that washes up on the shore of the blessed oasis.
Thank you, Elle, and all of you. Thank you all for sharing your pain and glory and everything in between. Thank you all for reminding me every time I hop on here that I have survived magnificently the ugliness that was laid at my feet 3 years ago and that I have finally achieved what I sought to find 3 days after D-Day 2...inner peace. So much love to each and everyone of you. We will transcend
Thank you Elle i feel so alone in my fight, at times. I wish i could fast forward through the pain so I can see how the story ends (or begins depending on your point of view). I love my H but i need to love myself more and it’s so hard when you feel beaten down.
ReplyDeleteI love this and almost 5 years out. Its very true and a hard thing to do. Sit idle. Sit with your thoughts or early on it felt like a job thinking about it all day or because daily life moves having enough time to just sit. When i practiced i would set limits like think fir thos long goigoe foe this long only cry and scream in the car for this long and i recall elles post always on days its overwhelming i feel.i cant... dont... just show up and be kind to yourself. It gets better. It really does and for those early in the findings and shatterings of dday know we get it and know that pretty toes help get a pedicure and get up each day with a positive thought for you its all about you now. U take the wheel and stir the car where u want to go and i says u are lost ... sit idle. Rest until u feel more clear. Your choice everyday to go in the direction u want to go or reroute when u feel like i . No pinpointed map on this winding journey of betrayal and its not a race to the i feel better finishline. Instead picture it like the long way home ride with some peaceful scenic views and other turns with too many stop signs or corn fields to high u have to slow down and be caution to see. Each and everyday u get up and put yourself in motion at your own pace.
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