My day hasn’t been all sunshine and roses. Oops. I’m determined to not use cliches in this blog entry. I want to find new ways to describe how it feels when “the bottom falls out”, or you “get that queasy feeling in the PIT of your stomach”, or “are blindsided” by emotion or circumstance. The bottom of life falls out and you go into a sinkhole? What is a stomach pit? Learning something unexpected leaves us feeling like we were plowed into a snowbank while walking along a sunny, summer path.
Can you tell I’ve been having a bad day? I will be candid and say that out loud. It doesn’t matter why, because it isn’t the first or last. What matters is how I process it.
The day I’ve been having is heavy. It’s one of those days when I am not a cheerleader for anything. I feel lousy. My heart has become over weighted by “stuff’, which is pushing down on my abdomen (technically not my stomach) to cause crowded sensation and a squirmy feeling. A feeling that I don’t like. A feeling that I want to step away from.
Sometimes we push so hard to keep moving forward in life – and that is for everyone, not only acoustic neuroma patients – that we don’t take time to breathe and regroup before the next push. Attending a noisy party where we look straight into someone’s eyes to find that it wasn’t their voice we heard. A push to compartmentalize head pain, convincing everyone and ourselves that we’re just fine when we aren’t. It’s a fact that sometimes pain wins. Sometimes that next push is just getting up in the morning with a wonky head and buzzing in our ears. Sometimes it’s reaching deep for a sense of humor when all we really want to do is cry.
Well, today I had thoughts flowing through my head about moments lost, memories forgotten, regret for what could have been. I belabored lost opportunities in my life and things I cannot do. I failed to acknowledge successes by minimizing them because I’ve had a hot, soaking immersion in self-pity.
Life is not fair. I don’t get it. I don’t like it.
Well, what did I do about it? First I took a nap. Then I went for a walk in the very cold Michigan spring air. I inhaled and exhaled. I gave myself time to wallow, but reminded myself of the reasons I prefer to keep going. I reminded myself that I can breathe. I can find pleasure in new things. Yes, kicking and screaming at the things left behind, but new and pleasurable nonetheless. If we lived our lives based on losses, we’d still be missing our first favorite t-shirt. Like the navy blue Adidas t-shirt that I had when I was twenty. (not that I remember how comfortable it was or wonder when I let it slip away. . .)
I love life. Unfair, stinky, painful life. I recognize that some of the toughest times that I’ve experienced left me feeling stronger or closer to someone in my life. I love joy and the feeling that inflates my heart with warmth instead of weighing it down with stuff. Today I had to take it back a couple steps from my usual fervor. I stopped looking at the pile of stuff that needs to be addressed and focused on the next minute, and then the next hour. I sent my pouting mind to a happy place. A place where I am alive, taking things a day at a time, knowing that a bad days will be followed by good ones. And knowing that really bad days allow me to recognize and appreciate the joy of a spectacular day.
Thanks. I feel better. Time to go play with my new puppy.