Surviving the "feels"

It’s been two weeks since I’ve been on my own. Anguish, peace, fear, contentment, sadness, excitement. I have cycled through more emotions that I had even been aware of having and I don’t anticipate an end to this ride anytime soon. I’ve never been frightened off by the rawness of emotional pain. Entering it, letting it carry me, experiencing the corporal sensations of the hurt were always modi operandi for me. Until now. Now, I don’t want to feel any of it. Sure, the good stuff is okay, but once my chest radiates with the prodrome of impending emotional pain I now try to dull and ignore. Not wanting to let myself feel is driven by the fear that I will not be able to handle it. More specifically, that regret will seep in; it will insinuate itself into my head, my heart, my will. I am afraid that feeling the pain of losing, missing out, being without will send me into a panic of “oh my god, what have I done?!?!”. Not feeling allows me to survive. Right now, I just need to survive. I need to move through each minute, hour, day, week in a task-oriented, somewhat distracted manner in order to move forward.

The feels that I’m trying to not feel:

Missing him. I miss him. I do. I miss him as a person. His laugh, his stories, the way we got the same joke. Yet, I don’t miss him as a partner.

Missing the kids. They were just with me for a week. It was a good week. My heart plunged as I dropped them off at their dad’s house. Once back at my apartment, I let myself cry. A couple of times. Briefly.

Frustration and impatience at things not feeling better. And fear. The fear takes the form of “what ifs”: What if I never meet anyone else? What if I can’t make a good living? What if I keep feeling sad? Crazy, I know. It’s been two freakin’ weeks. Of course things are difficult! Duh! But, nevertheless, I do get scared that I will always feel this way.

Loneliness. It’s there. Not constantly, but it’s hovering close by and touches down every now and then.

These are my companions these days, although I am trying (against what my usual instinct is) to not give them too much attention. What I’m hopeful of is that these feelings that I’m trying to avoid will lose intensity over time so that I can face them and bear them with courage and strength.

This isn’t easy. But it’s necessary. I have to believe that.

“First the pain, then the waiting, then the rising. All of our suffering comes when we try to get to our resurrection without allowing ourselves to be crucified first.”

Oh, Glennon. I do love you so I will look past the Christian reference to understand the deeper meaning: We must go through the pain, be patient (do you hear that Marie?!? BE PATIENT), and only then will we be able to thrive. I do hope you’re right, Glennon. You’re living it, so I will have hope for myself.