Seeking peace

Another sleepless night, my mind is racing, and I am not sure what to do with all the thoughts ruminating around in my head. Peeling back the layers of everything I am feeling has become very difficult lately. I feel like there are 90 mile per hour fastballs coming at my head each a different area of my life that needs to be addressed and unpacked but how do I prioritize which one is the most important when they all seem to be? I suppose that I am doing that in my therapy sessions or perhaps even when I talk to my best friend but when I am alone, and I shut off the distractions the night consumes me and so does the loneliness and the sleeplessness prevails.

The heaviness I am feeling is a weight on my heart that I have not ever felt before. It is this tremendous pain that does not cripple me enough to stop me dead in my tracks but rather a nagging, constant that reminds me that there is something fundamentally important missing. I could run down the list of things that I believe to be missing from my life and perhaps I should. Perhaps that would help me to prioritize in which order to tackle them, but can you really make a list of which pieces of your grief to tackle first? I dare say not. I look forward to the days where this blog serves a purpose to motivate me and others to reflect back on all the work we have done and how far we have come but right now it is in part becoming my truest outlet to communicate. A place where I can actually try and articulate my thoughts as best as I can. I am sure that at times it makes little to no sense. That I go in and out of first person but isn’t that what we do in terms of disassociating from ourselves? I feel as if when you are divulging the deepest recesses of your soul to whomever is listening, that you can’t help but wonder is this stuff that I am writing or saying really about me? I can assure you I am often surprised at what I am realizing about myself each time I work on unpacking what has happened the last year and a half of my life.

Most people don’t truly understand the actual level of fuckery that has happened in my world and if you know me then you know it is by design but as I have been writing the last week or so I have realized that I no longer want to navigate this excruciating pain in secrecy and alone. And as I have come to that realization, I have also identified that in order to start over, in order to have autonomy I have to seek supports that are specifically for me. Ones that have my best interests in mind rather than offering opinions or challenges that have to do with their emotional process and not mine. Does that mean that I can’t lean on my dearest friends? No, but it means that I need to be willing to step out of my comfort zone and find supports. Will I do that? I don’t know. I truly don’t. I am an introvert, and I am not a teenager or a young adult anymore. I don’t have the same desires I did when I was young. Do you need multiple people to find that, or do you need that one person who truly gets you? Who understands you? If you asked me that 20 years ago, I’d say the more the merrier, now I am looking for simplicity and deep connection. I am looking for a deeply soul stimulating connection, and I had that, and well I destroyed that.

I realized yesterday that I enjoy talking about things. Something happens and I immediately want to share those thoughts. I am reading City of Girls and I want to talk about it. I want to talk about how incredibly well written this book is, how tremendously talented Liz is, how sad I am that I am chapters away from being done. How this story defies any belief system that I had about an antiquated time like WW2. It’s a masterpiece, truly. And what I realized is that I don’t have anyone to talk to about these things. I recommend these books to clients, and they share back with me about their experiences with the recommendation and we can chat about it, but that relationship isn’t a forum for me to talk about literary masterpieces. It is a place to promote healing and maintain boundaries. I miss emotional connection, I miss bonding with someone over a shared interest, I miss the opportunity to discuss our passions, desires and the like.

Life and its fastballs have been a difficult journey to navigate lately and as I sit in my actions, my choices, I often wonder what I did it all for. To be alone? To force myself out of my comfort zone. I don’t see the lesson at this point and perhaps that is normative, I am grieving tremendous loss. And this time it feels different. There is a permanency in this loss that I can only associate to the death of a loved one. That feeling that you will always feel the person around you in a spiritual way but who is gone from your life until you meet again in heaven (if you believe in that kind of thing). There is a pit in my stomach. In the deepest recesses of my being. And I am struggling to reconcile it. I get lost in these thoughts and memories and they are mostly sweet, and it brings me peace. Small little fantasies that make the pain a little more bearable. Then I remember, I skim through interactions, I take myself back to a time when things weren’t so good, and I remember that all that’s left is cold and empty and it brings me to my knees and then I find myself pleading to “God” for peace, for a reprieve. And it doesn’t matter who is to blame or if this is deserved or my punishment for all of my transgressions.

I am begging for the silencing of my mind and the hardening of my heart. If I don’t feel anything then I can move forward. I want so desperately to numb, to forget, to be able to say “fuck it” but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me at this time. I’d say that is progress, even if it feels like utter decimation. I set a nuclear bomb off in my life and the effects will be long lasting. All I can do now is to be deliberate about my recovery and take one day at a time into my future whatever that may end up being.