A Cry for Realness

I took the day off yesterday in the hope I might be able to push myself to get up and do something. I have felt heavy lately, too heavy to push. That is, to push to do more than I absolutely must do. I think it is a result of the numbing I have engaged in over the past year and half. Numbing myself to the sinking feelings and thoughts that I have been having. It is a trusted survival strategy for me – to numb and push. Push, because life doesn’t wait. For any reason. Push through, show up –even if it’s a fragment of yourself, and the good feelings will come. And they have come…eventually.

But numbing is a funny thing. It allows you to cut yourself off from the thoughts and feelings that are too painful to face, but it also numbs you from the good feelings. I fear I have numbed and pushed for too long because I have landed myself in a dark sinking place.

It takes everything I have to pretend I am fine. Smile. Laugh. Encourage. Rinse. Repeat. I do this for work, at least I try. Once work is over, I try and be present for my family. I’m not though. I can barely stay awake for them, let alone engage with them. I don’t smile, laugh or encourage. I do what is necessary and nothing more. I am going through the motions and each time one of my family asks me for something, I feel like I am going to break. I feel like I haven’t the energy to give anything. I feel empty and dead inside.

Each day, I see my reflection in the eyes of those I love, and I sink deeper into the muck. Sickened by what I see, I want to rub mud on my face and body to hide myself from them, so that they don’t see what I see, looking back at me.

What the fuck is going on with me? Why am I suffering so badly?

Is it the series of significant and hard life events I have experienced?

Is it the result of a cancer diagnosis and the resulting trauma I endured to be rid of it?

Is it hormonal? I have been on anti-hormonal therapy for a year now to stave off a cancer recurrence and the side effects have altered how I experience life and it scares me.

Is it the chronic pain I now have to live with?

Is it because some of my closest loved ones have had their own trauma and diagnoses?

Is it COVID 19 and the isolation is has demanded?

Is it because I work from home and there is no line between the two?

Is it our long cold winter and it’s only February?

Is it the shame I feel for not being okay for so long?

Okay. There ARE solid reasons for what might be at the root of my despair. But come on! Isn’t this what alot of people are experiencing? Um YES!

So I keep demanding myself to, “Get up! GET UP!!!! Damn it!!!! GET!!!!! UUUUUP!!!!!” And when I can’t, I cry, and I cry some more. And I avoid contact with my family and friends because the shame of not being able to do life is too much to bear. It’s almost as hard as having to pretend to be fine.

I look at my self-help books and all the positive affirmations that fill up my Instagram feed and they make me want to throw up. Seriously. One thing I have learned about these things is they only work when I am well. They do shit for me when I am down in the muck.

So why write this? Why air my dirty laundry here for all to see? Is it a cry for help? Truthfully? The answer is, No.

I am writing this in response to my inner voice’s cry for realness. It is my truth -to the question of how my day is going or how I am doing.

Is it nice? No.

Is it comfortable? No.

Is it easy on my loved ones? No.

But telling the truth is necessary for healing.

Writing this gives me the creative juice to look at what’s going on for me right now, to sit here in Starbucks crying my eyes out while I type. And, finally, it is for those, like me, whose realness seems too raw and flawed and weak to bring to light. This is for us.

With so much love,

Shannon Rae