There’s at least one good thing about getting older, and that’s just plain knowing more things.
One thing I’m starting to really cotton onto is the reality of change. Like, of course we all know that change is the only constant. But in this case, I am talking about the kind of change that is not that major.
But knowing about it is a big deal.
You don't have to do anything different
It’s ok to just hold on a bit.
Just wait. Give yourself a moment.
It’s OK to not know what the hell to do next.
I feel ya. Right now maybe it doesn’t feel so good. I mean, GOD. The world — life, parenting, adulting — all of it can be such a big fat gross stressy-mess.
After all, we all LIVED through a worldwide “THE SKY IS FALLING”-life-ending bull-crappity, doo-wappity, crap-happity few years in which life was really, really on the razor’s edge.
It takes a toll to live like that.
We had this person-acting-pretend guy who was like “it’s all totally under control.”
Meanwhile, MILLIONS of people died. Some of them were your friends and family. Others were strangers. All of them were people just like me and you: young and old. Lined up in body bags. Stuck in the ground.
Yay.
And, I’d like to point out: that was only three years ago.
If you aren’t ok yet, that’s OK. If you don’t know what to do now, who does?
That’s trauma. The good news is, it’s yours. Whatever you want to make of it, you can.
The symptoms of trauma are very real. Here’s a list of them from MedicineNet in an article about how long the impact of trauma can last.
Shock, denial, disbelief, confusion
Anger, irritability, mood swings
Anxiety and fear
Guilt, shame, self-blame
Withdrawal from others
Feeling sad or hopeless
Feeling disconnected or numb
Even as an extrovert, I find myself having to work hard to simply leave the house. Yes, still. Even though I guess I should be “over it” by now. Who says? I don’t know. Don’t ask me.
The physical body tells us in no uncertain terms: I’m also not OK.
Exhausted? Not sleeping well? Stress eating or drinking? Yes please.
I don’t know about you, but the last year has involved the normal, everyday “get up and do things” along with the additional work of trying to know what to do be normal again. To be “all good” again.
I’ve realized that change — well — it changes things.
But it’s OK.
Today I might feel awful. I just wait. Eat a bagel. Go for a walk. Call that friend who really listens. The one who says “I love you” before we hang up.
I just wait
Some days I really, personally, do not want to go on. It’s a suffocating feeling, but I’ve learned to live with it.
I sit in gratitude for my kids, especially. I talk myself through the worst moments, not for myself, but for other people. I keep the vision of them in front of me, and even though — on those days — I feel there’s very little reason for anything, I just wait. I know I don’t know anything.
I’ve practiced this now enough times that some muffled part of my mind still calls out from under the fear, shame, and blackness: take a nap. You’ll feel better tomorrow.
Just wait. You don’t have to solve anything today.
“Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all.
“When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story. It may just be the beginning of a great adventure.
“Life is like that. We don't know anything. We call something bad; we call it good. But really we just don't know.”
— Pema Chödrön,
When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times
Great advice and hard to follow, at least for me.
YES. this was like a breath of fresh air. 💛