Day 26.
The year has not been what I thought. 26 days in and I've suffered more heartache than I could have ever fathomed. This may be a good thing only because I won't be able to fool myself as to how good/bad the rest of the year will be. There are no surprises although, maybe I shouldn't say that. Don't know. This is my way of comforting myself.
Funny, even as I type this blog, I feel numb. There is this bizarre sense within me that everything that has happened in life (particularly over the last year) has been one big movie I've been sitting and watching in a dark theater. I may be the main actress but it's not really me going through the motions, I'm even surprised how things are unfolding.
I woke up this morning with a start saying to myself out loud, "what just happened?" It's like waking from a nightmare but you're not really awake. You realize with a sinking feeling that whatever is happening, no matter how you want to escape, is still happening. And worse of all? None of it makes sense.
The snow, the weather, the cold, the wind, it all reflects my inner turmoil right now. I feel as if I'm in a raging sea that won't let me up for air, no matter how much I struggle and fight. I'm slowly drowning, but I don't want to because I want to live. Are these unique words that I've just typed? No, I'm 100,000% sure they are not. They are but one drop in the bucket of the heartbreak humanity faces on a daily/momentary basis. This also isn't the ultimate in hurt. But this is mine. This is mine.
I've been told by those who love me most, that this too shall pass. That I will wake up one day and find it is better, that my chest aches less, that the constant feeling of nausea will pass. I've been told that I'm too good for this nonsense and that let karma do the rest. I have been soothed with words of encouragement, anger at the situation, frustration with how things have panned out, and at the end an outpouring of love. I am grateful that I have those who I can turn to and their arms are open wide to take me in, to feel loving hands stroking me and to hear soft words of comfort such as, "It will get easier, I promise." Oh God, I am so clinging to these words.
The intellectual side of me knows that things will somehow heal and time will do it's magic. There's a part of me that knows absolutely that I will find all those reasons I had before to show my enthusiasm, my laughter will ring out again, my tears will dry up and the reason for this pain will wither away into a bad memory and whereas I will always have them no matter how I try to block them out, those too will be stored away somewhere in the back dark recesses of my mind to take out only on rare occasions when I need to remind myself which path not to take in the future.
But the problem is me. It's just me. My mind works in a way that it never forgets anything. I can be easily reduced to tears by the touch of a familiar wind or the playing of a song; my heart constricts from a memory that is so real that it feels like it just happened and I am so in touch with my own soul that pain/regret/sadness is but a breath away. How do I then move on? It's easier said than done, my friend, so much easier said than done.
This scares me to the core. To find no rest, to find no respite, to find no real happiness in something as simple as a beautiful warm sunny day. This scares me and I want to simply hide away. That cave I spoke of in a prior blog? Seems to be calling my name more and more.
I understand that life is full of difficulties. I was taught at a very young age that the road that we take is difficult, vicious, harsh...that life really are all those things. I learned that the struggle, for the lack of any better way to say it, is real. It's just life though. That's the thing. We all go through it. No one person is spared the pains, the heart aches, the crushing blows of defeat. We feel it in ways that are so unique to each yet so sweepingly common. When I talk to others, they can sympathize, tell me, "I've been through that". I know, I knew. I still feel so damn lonely.
So I guess the only option now is to wait till tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that so that this becomes less unbearable, so that I can somehow breathe again. When did taking a simple breath become so hard anyhow? Not till it becomes nearly impossible do you start to appreciate, isn't it? But then again that's how life is. Not until you loose that which you hold dear, that made you live, that gave you wings to fly, when that's gone, then you appreciate what you once had. I think so.
I can also say this much, whatever has happened recently, I live with a clear conscience. Not to say I do not have my faults for things falling apart, but I also know that I've done more good than bad, I've given more and taken less, I've been open and honest withholding nothing. At night, even when it's hard to sleep I know it is not because of guilt on my part.
So yea, I'll wait till tomorrow.
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