Nothing can really prepare you, no matter how many times you’ve been down this road before. That is the simplest way I can come up with to try to explain it. I just don’t feel quite right. It’s like walking on eggshells, but I’m cautious of myself instead of someone else. I keep turning each corner while holding my breath. It’s like part of me is anticipating it. Part of me is expecting it to be there lurking and waiting for me in the shadows. And yet, I am not prepared. I am heavy. People say “what was the trigger?” I don’t know. Would you believe me if I said there truly isn’t one? Maybe it is the weather. Or maybe it is because this is a season of transition. It doesn’t make sense, even to me, even though I am living it. I’ve been told on a multitude of occasions, and I’d like to agree, that I am a pretty self-aware individual. But this is something I cannot pinpoint.
Triggers make sense. I get them. I know strategies to avoid and prevent them. I know ways to identify them. I’ve learned how to cope when they happen. I am heavy. The kind of heavy that makes you move a little slower. It makes breathing a little harder. It makes the world look so fast, and makes the thought of trying to keep up with the pace exhausting. Putting on my makeup seems like such an accomplishment. I think the hardest thing is, when you’re known for being nothing short of the energizer bunny on a day-to-day basis, you cause a scene if you are simply quiet. If I don’t make eye contact, crack jokes, or smile, it’ll blow my cover. It’s not that I don’t want to be engaged, present and joyful, it is just that I feel so empty and doing any more than just going through the motions is giving more of myself than I have to give. And yet I continue to do it.
Because what if I act the way I’m feeling? What if I slouch in my seat and stare at the wall? What if I don’t acknowledge those around me, and I embrace my exhaustion? I’ll tell you what. It causes somewhat of a scene. It causes worry. And the worry often comes with pain. And seeing those who know me on any level feel pain in regard to me, honestly just makes me heavier. It makes it harder. What if someone asks if I’m ok? Do they really want to know? If I tell the truth, will it push them away? Will we both walk away feeling worse? If I smile and say “I’m great” does that really make their concern leave? Does it make my heaviness dissipate? Or will they feel dismissed, and I feel even more alone? My world is racing faster than ever. And I feel sluggish at best. Slow and steady wins the race they say. I do not lack hope. I believe deeply in hope.
Sometimes I just don’t know how to tap into it. Sometimes I don’t know how to let that carry me. Misunderstanding feels like a theme in my life lately. I feel misunderstood by the world around me. I feel misunderstood by my peers. And yet I don’t know how to help them understand. What I do know, that this darkness has come and gone before. But being heavy makes it hard to move. And I refuse to move closer to the darkness. I have fallen into that rabbit hole. I will wait out the storm. I’m going to have to choose the uncertainty of hope, over the certainty of pain. And when the sun appears tomorrow, I will move forward and choose healing. And there I will embrace hope again
