Today is my first full day home from a week-long trip from Portland to Santa Monica. As I arrived at LAX at 7:00 am Friday morning I could feel a sense of anxiety and dread building in the background of my mind and as I continued onto the flight it began to churn bringing with it a sense of deep irritability and discontent. My thoughts were starting to race, my jaw was clenched, and as we touched down in Indianapolis I felt nothing but a deep pit of unhappiness in my soul.
While I was sad on my trip, I could meditate on my feelings and view them from the outside. I could evaluate my situation and past experiences with an objective lens and think and behave rationally. I could feel the deep peace of my overall self outside of the turmoil.
Here, it’s all consuming. I’m drowning in it. I hate it here.
I can’t escape my misery, I’m fully sober. There’s no soothing and numbing from an outside substance. Honestly, it was the most I’ve struggled in a long time. How nice would it be to go to a bar and have a drink and lose myself in a crowd of people talking and laughing? Even just go and not have a drink, just to prey on the energy? But I do have the awareness at least that that would be dangerous territory at the present moment and not worth the risk.
So how do I incorporate that feeling I had when I was away to when I’m here and all of my issues are presented to face once again?
I visited these places to see my best friend and my Mamaw. I spent time with more family as well and found it extremely enjoyable. As my Mamaw said during one of our deep conversations on my childhood,
“I never want you to doubt that you were loved.”
I think a key I need to focus on is the unconditional love I feel from these people, though far, is still with me. I am still loved.
My first night home after unpacking and cleaning I was enraged, miserable and I did what I do best: I took to my car and drove. As I was driving I contemplated, if I will be extremely honest, the abstract concept of ending my life. But then I became aware of the distinct feeling that my Real Dad was with me. He was with me and he understood. He ended his life too. He regretted it. He knew the emotions I was feeling, the overwhelmingness of them and he was here to bring comfort and comfort alone.
I always sought out the presence of my Dad but it makes complete sense that he would step back and allow my Real Dad to be the one to be here for me. He understood better, I was so much like him. The time with my Mamaw opened the door to understand him better and to see him again. I could find the deep down wound in my soul that was missing and grieving him all this time.
I realized then that he had always been here, he’d just been waiting. He understood why I pushed him away. But the unconditional love a father has for his daughter has never faltered.
I am loved. Though I feel very alone at this present moment, so much of it is my own making. I fear connection with others because I fear it being taken away. My past experiences have made me very wary of care and love being shown to me. When will they leave? When will they prove that they don’t actually care?
I cannot become jaded. I have to open my heart to feel loved and to love others in the way I spoke on in ‘The New Way to See’. There’s so much love to be had, to give still. The defense mechanisms I have set up so defiantly over time don’t make that less so or make me less worthy of it.
I am ready to give and receive love. I am ready to give and receive joy. I am ready to open myself up to people outside of a blog on the internet or superficial conversations. I am ready to see others in person and experience new things. I am ready to no longer isolate myself from others because I don’t feel, deep down, I’m worthy of them.
I took a cross stitch from my Mamaw’s house that says, “Give Thanks”. I am thankful for my experiences and the feeling of true unconditional love I experienced on my trip. I’ll think of it when I see it every day.
I’ll carry that love with me, my father with me, as I face a new day even though I truly don’t want to. He didn’t but I can.
Yes. A warmed heart and tears here.
Brokenness – I identify with so much of your journey. I don’t know if you have any memory of your great grandma Loretta. She was not my mother, but did the best she could within her own brokenness. The consequences of losing your father in his brokenness took me again to losing my mother when I was taken at 3 and raised with tales of how bad she was. Eventually I learned of her brokenness. Your Mom was broken too. We are all broken people.
Scars – You probably know the healing and strength that I and your Mom are growing. I am thrilled (ya really) to see your growth and healing. My tears are of joy and also because I know how hard it is and how hard it will be for you. There will always be scars, but the open wounds will close. My scars and the knowledge that wounds can close are reminders and lessons and trail markers.
We cannot make things un-happen but it is worth it to grow into the new persons we are making. At 80 I am still growing and facing new hard things. As Carrie Newcomer says “You can do this hard thing.”
I am sooo proud of your growing wisdom and inner strength.