An incomprehensible, unexplainable, out of the blue with no rhyme or reason to it at all breakdown.
I still can’t figure out what happened. I’ve been doing so well. Feeling so good.
But yesterday – something hit me and totally took me down.
Hard.
I woke up feeling great. Loving the fact that I had gotten a much needed sleep-in, and looking forward to my appointment with the healer who I hadn’t actually been in to see for a few weeks.
I was more than ready for a good, long, all-about-me massage.
But I swear – the healer tapped into some emotional heart trigger or something, because within just a few hours of that massage; I was a mess.
It’s happened before. I’m fairly sure Teeny has done points on me in the past intentionally trying to get me to let go. Because I admittedly have an issue with bottling things up and moving forward in an attempt to always be “OK”.
Intentionally or not though, the healer definitely got me blubbering.
At least, that’s the only thing I can think of. Because otherwise – there was no trigger. No explanation. No plausible reason for why I would have broken down in such a grand fashion.
I was at a jewelry party a friend was hosting when it hit. With a group of women looking at a bunch of beautiful pieces that I myself would never actually buy (if only because I’m allergic to everything, and anyway – I’ve just never fully embraced a love of jewelry). But everything was fine. I was socializing, and looking around, and trying my best to pretend that I was one of those girls who found any of this interesting at all.
But somewhere in there, the sadness started to seep in. Sadness, and helplessness, and loneliness that I haven’t felt in a while.
There. In a room full of women and friends. A loneliness I couldn’t quite understand at all.
I managed to keep it together until it was time to leave, but I wasn’t more than 2 blocks away before the tears began.
Tears brought on by things I usually try to force myself not to think about. Things set far in the future that I obviously have no way of controlling or knowing at all right now.
This fear that I will always be alone. That I will never have children. Never have someone in my life who loves me, and means it, and stays. This sadness over the state of my life in juxtaposition to that of all my friends.
This dissatisfaction with a life that most days I really am quite happy with.
If only because as happy as I am with it right now – I know it’s not what I want forever.
And yesterday, for whatever reason, I became so afraid that it was a life I would be condemned to living until the end of time.
The single, independent, childless woman forced to watch all her friends finding enduring love and happiness, building their families and embracing that next stage, all while trying to pretend that my life is fabulous and care free and exactly what I always wanted.
Like I said, these are things I don’t normally allow myself to dwell on. I am only 28 after all. I never really saw myself getting married or having children before 30. I always thought I would spend these years untied down. Growing as a person and learning what it was I really wanted out of life before walking down whatever path comes next.
Something about facing the loss of that part of life I always thought would eventually come though… it leaves me sad sometimes now. Wondering what else of the life I once pictured will end up remaining unobtainable for me.
It’s made me more than a little afraid that the life, and love, and happiness I once pictured for myself will be forever out of reach.
Even though none of those things were ever dreams I really pictured having for myself at this point in my life anyway.
It’s funny how sometimes when life kicks you down; it has a way of shaking up all the perspective you once so proudly carried.
But why any of this weighed so heavily on my heart yesterday, I still cannot explain.
All I know is that as I felt myself tumbling, I picked up the phone. Dialing numbers at random looking for someone (anyone) to talk me back down.
And it was, of course, the devirginator who picked up.
As I blubbered out my list of fears/complaints/glimpses of the future (“Everyone who says they love me is always going leave me.” “I’m never going to be a mom.” “I’m never going to be good enough for anyone.” “I’m always going to have to watch everyone I care about have children, and I’ll never be anything more than an auntie to any of them.” “I’m crazy and irrational and no longer even making any sense at all.” – OK, so that last one wasn’t one I acknowledged yesterday, but it’s pretty clear to me now), the devirginator patiently listened. Without laughing or poking fun or even once calling me crazy.
Which is exactly what I was in that moment.
And finally when I was done, I took a deep breath and then I said:
“Fix it.”
Not the first time I have uttered these words to the DV. In fact, I vaguely recall a night somewhere in my twenties when I showed up on his doorstep in tears after a particularly bad breakup muttering that same phrase. And many other moments before and since when I have found myself sinking into the abyss knowing only that for reasons I will never understand, the DV would be able to pull me out.
“I could get all Godly and spiritual right now.” He started. “I could tell you that everything happens for a reason, and that one day you’ll understand why you’ve had to deal with some of the things you have.”
This only made me cry more, as I sputtered out “But I do believe that! I do!” Feeling suddenly the need to somehow prove how much my faith lies in that very theory.
“I know.” He said. “But the truth is… it sucks. It just sucks. What you’ve had to go through sucks. The fact that you can’t have kids sucks. It all sucks. And it’s OK to admit that sometimes.”
I can’t say that my tears instantaneously dried up, because they didn’t, but suddenly – I did feel like I could breathe again. That the band around my chest tightening with each “why am I feeling like this?” thought, suddenly lifted.
We started talking about going home for Thanksgiving. About the hiking, and drinking, and eating we’re going to do in just a few weeks time. And somehow, by the time I got off the phone with the DV, I was calmed.
He had fixed it.
If only by reminding me that – it sucks. And sometimes, it’s OK to acknowledge that. To have a little pity party and cry over what’s been lost. The hurts inflicted by both life, and the people who were supposed to care. And the hopes and dreams that may not ever come to be.
It’s OK to be brought down by that. Even inexplicably and out of the blue.
Just so long as once the tears subside, you’re capable of pulling yourself out of the funk and getting back to living life.
Which is exactly what I did last night. Driving a bit out of town to visit with friends in the process of stripping land they just bought to build their dream home. An endeavor that is currently at the stage burning all the wreckage that has already been removed.
Resulting in a bonfire to end all bonfires.
And wine.
And laughing.
And breathing.
And forgetting.
Because it does suck. And sometimes, you just have to cry about it.
But when the tears have passed, only you can pick yourself back up and keep on living life.
Finding joy in what you do have. What you have been given. The life you are blessed to live.
Even if every once in a while, you have to reach out to someone else. If only to say:
Fix it.
