As I fought back a torrent of tears earlier I realized how little I really let myself feel these days.
Sure, there’s the anxiety attacks that creep up and then grab me from behind like a friend yelling, “guess who?” in a cheerily delightful voice, but I drown them out speaking truth. Some times take longer than others.
I have a friend who is dying from anerexia and I haven’t seen her in awhile. Her family won’t commit her and she is in such a prison in her mind that she has shut out reality, love and life.
Today I found out that a friend’s sweet baby has been hospitalized as failure to thrive because his body can’t ingest enough calories to survive.
and then I’m processing on my end some bad news health wise for Bear- his blood work came back with not the numbers we were wanting to see and that sent us scurrying to the waiting lists of 2 new specialists and a visit to the geneticist for more depressing news. Surgery once again is on the discussion table.
and I stay busy, work hard, keep my head down and clinically take the steps I need to take. I pray a lot, self-analyze more than I should and distract myself with busy nothings that pass the time and fill up the part of my brain that feels hurt.
I want to hit my friend who is starving herself. I want to hold my friend whose baby is starving. I feel helpless on the side lines, watching life unfold around me in painful ways this season and, well, I just kind of want a hug.
and I keep fighting back the tears because I’m worried that if I stop and let myself FEEL for one second that the tears will never end.
Beyond this, all of this mess, however, in a part of myself that I only get to when I force my body into stillness. In this moment in this place the waters are calm. The breeze is warm and the hair on my arms and legs stands up in anticipation. The tingle starts in my mid-section and I see the light even through my closed eyes. The muscles in my clenched self slowly unknit and unwind and I KNOW. This peace, this place is always here and I breath in and out fully and slowly. He is here.