When will this pain end? I don’t understand. I don’t understand how pain can be so intense and not completely break you. When will all the wounds be healed, all the scars undone? I don’t know how this could ever be. When the pain eats me, chews my bones and spits me out, exhausted and confused, my whole body aches with a worry, a fear, a wondering, whether this will ever soften…ever cease to be?
The truth is I don’t know. And the other truth is, I know it doesn’t ever stop. I’ve heard it gets easier, and that is something I believe. But it never stops. And that is something I believe too.
But when the world feels such a painful place, the weight of daily responsibilities feel overwhelming, like I’m nailed at the stake of responsibility that is crumbling beneath me, I wonder how long I can cope. My feet feel like the ground beneath them is fake. All an image of capability, when yet what actually lies beneath them is a vast pit of a discombobulated mess. I feel like I’m living a lie of managing, when all I need to do is fall apart and crumble, and never get up.
I feel torn between a desire to keep going and keep trying to live part of this normal life, and a desire to completely fall apart. Because the latter has never happened. Yet when I look back on the days this past year has brought, there is nothing about them that doesn’t define Breakdown or Mess. It has been one long year of that. I just have always had this edge of me that has been okay. And perhaps I always will have this edge. I just need to trust this…And one day I will.
There is that fragile edge, that part of me that feels overwhelmed and still in shock though. Still in pain from the responsibilities weighed on as a child, that daily life becomes a challenge when this part is in prominent play. This is the part that needs nurturance, reassurance, comfort, and love. Perhaps I will always have this edge too…I have a feeling it will. And therefore, maybe I’ll begin to trust this can be heard and lived through, not all encompassed by, too.
This last part I talk of, is one that we all have – the Inner Child, our Little Girl…the part of us that needs the acknowledgement and listening. What makes this part of us sing, sob and soften? Mine, I know, needs to just CRY. Be held. Be reassured, honoured and allowed to express through its tears.
Life might feel overwhelming. It might feel as though my entire life of sorrow and grief, letdown and trauma, is up in my face, blinding me, but still beneath that is strength and joy that comes with feeling this pain too. It might feel as though all I need to do, all I can do, is lie in a heap for a year or two, but actually what happens when I do? When I lie in a heap and sob or shake, twenty minutes later, I get up. Tender, but refreshed, rejuvenated and alive. More alive than twenty minutes before.
I am learning that overwhelming pain is only overwhelming because it truly needs to be felt. It needs to be heard, it needs to be nurtured, released, listened to, let out. It overwhelms when it’s not acknowledged. And the pain of this repression is SO much more than the pain of the acknowledgement.