That was kind of a bumpy week. It was honestly bumpier than I thought it would be. I’m doing okay now, and I’m looking forward to the weeks and months ahead, I think, with the sense that the biggest hurdles are behind me for now. I always say that it’s “for now” because such in the nature of adulthood, where you never really know when another big stumbling block is going to appear. For this very moment, though, I’m happy to not see anything on the horizon that I really, crucially need to prepare for. No big tasks or concerns. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a horizon that clear, so I’m going to just look upon it positively instead of with anxiety.
I’ve been trying hard this year to be more mindful that way. It isn’t always easy. It definitely isn’t easy. Let’s face it – one of the reasons why I’ve developed the bad habits that I have, or the strategies that I have, is because of necessity. There’s been a barrage of very stressful situations that have cropped up over the last few years, and in response I’ve developed a lot of hyper-vigilance and hyper-responsibility and just plain old anxiety as a way to make sure that I get through the problems without creating more for myself along the way. When it happens enough times, your nervous system expects it and makes a pattern out of it, and it can be hard to not keep anticipating and reacting, even when the problem isn’t actually there. I’m learning to pump the breaks and take control of myself when I feel that happening. It’s a slow process, but I’m getting better.
One of the hardest events, though, is just all of the last two weeks. I said I wouldn’t talk about it much, and it’s still a thing I prefer to revisit in personal pieces and not as an essay, but I can at least name it right now: it was my last trip to the farm. It was a goodbye. It was a very big, very important event in my life, hitting on emotions that run very, very deep. I wasn’t alone in it, and it wasn’t all about me, but it’s okay to give my feelings on the matter the correct amount of respect and attention deserved. Basically, I’m not going to pretend that it was anything but a Really Big Deal. And I knew it would be. I tried my best to prepare myself for it and to accept that it was going to take me out at the knees for a while. On that front, I think I did okay. I hit the ground, but I picked myself up again.
What I didn’t correctly take into consideration, though, is other people. That didn’t go how I expected. It wasn’t all bad, but it was kind of humbling.
Without going into detail, I’m currently sitting with the acknowledgement that a few of the people in my life whom I love a lot and have for a long time – they just aren’t the kinds of people who can help me carry my feelings in the way that I want, and that that’s okay. The key phrase there is that it’s “the way that I want”. Not the correct way, not the best way, not the only way – and I think it’s important to recognize that that’s okay. I feel big feelings a lot, but people don’t always know what to do with big feelings. They don’t know how to sit with them, to be gentle, to listen without trying to fix. They feel the urge to run instead of offering kindness because they’re afraid of causing more hurt or getting hurt themselves or they just don’t know what to do. It’s not out of malice. None of us are perfect. Being human is hard. Grief is hard. Love is hard.
And maybe what I’m looking for comes from other, unexpected places. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t how I anticipated. There were people who I didn’t necessarily think of who were there for me. Friends I didn’t know I could count on did reach out, come over, and spend time with me. They honestly and truly wanted to go through my photos, ask me questions, hear the stories, talk and listen the way I needed to. Some of them checked in repeatedly to see if I was okay.
And to say nothing of my husband would be doing him a disservice. He’s absolutely been my rock for the whole thing. He’s cared so much, and gone out of his way to make sure that I came away from this with all the tools I need to make the memories I need out of it. He listened to all of my stories, let me cry and cried with me, laughed with me, explored with me. He made sure I wasn’t lonely and distracted me from my hurt when I needed it. I married the right guy.
Looking back at it, I’m feeling more okay. A lot of times, what you’re being given is just as well-meant, even if it doesn’t come in the shape you were hoping for.
Sometimes the things you need still come to you, but just not from the direction where you’re looking for them. Maybe we learn something from all that.
Some care loudly. Some care quietly. All are okay.