When resilience isn't enough
Learning to Accept Pain, Vulnerability, and the Need for Love in the Face of Unforeseen Change
Life is not so much about beginnings and endings as it is about going on and on and on. It is about muddling through the middle. - Anna Quindlen
I am constantly shaking, my hands are so unsteady that I find it difficult to hold a pen unless it is touching the paper, and holding onto a spoon or fork to bring food to my mouth is fraught with the uncertainty of whether I'll be able to do so without spilling it over my clothes. The shaking started in the middle of August after a telephone call with my then partner during which it became clear that he was ending our seven-and-a-half years relationship, and it hasn't stopped.
Meditation, breath work, yoga, walking, talking to friends, self-talk, exercise, writing, cooking, travelling, these are the many activities that I have tried to help ease the shakes and, to much frustration, they persist. My GP has prescribed the relevant medication to ease the anxiety and has advised that time is what I need.
Time… I have spent the last couple of months thinking about time, how it seems to be passing so quickly and yet not passing quickly enough. I am feeling anxious and scared about the future. I find myself evaluating this past year as it nears its end and I can't help but feel like a failure; the end of a relationship when it was not my choice and which I believed would last forever (delusional, I know) has left me reeling in pain and anger like I have never felt before.
Absorbing this shock has triggered in me feelings of insecurity, inadequacy and confusion for which I don't seem to have any tools in my emotional armoury to deal with and process. I had never expected to find myself at this stage of midlife feeling so much as a child whose sense of safety has been breached, expecting danger and being caught unaware of what others are feeling, thinking and experiencing, apprehensive that my naivety will expose me to being hurt again. Now more than ever I feel as if I have regressed to a time earlier in my life when I did not know myself, when I was still finding out what I stood for, working out what I believed, valued, cherished. I fear that my whole being, currently held by stitches that are threadbare, is in danger of unraveling.
I had never expected to find myself at this stage of midlife feeling so much as a child whose sense of safety has been breached
How did this happen? When was the moment my integrity started to erode? And, how did I not see the cracks appearing, destabilising my sense of self? How have I become this person who is unable to take action in fear of the consequences? I don't like this version of myself and at the same time I am struggling to take the first step towards reclaiming the person I know to be.
I feel unloved, or more precisely I feel that I am unable to receive love, as if my body rejects the possibility of tenderness and softness that love might offer, because I fear the likely pain that might follow, deepening my feeling of loneliness.
My heart feels as if it has been shredded to pieces, I can almost feel the sharp shards in my chest and I don't know where to start to put the pieces back together, without cutting my hands.
I try and I try and I seem to be missing some pieces. At every attempt the shape of my heart does not resemble one I recognise as my own, and, because it is misshapen, it doesn't seem capable of feeling kindness for itself and does not radiate kindness for me.
The picture on the box of the puzzle that used to be my heart has changed, so the pieces no longer make sense. Does this mean that I have lost some of the pieces? Or do I have to walk around rearranging the pieces until they fit again? Or is it that I now have to craft new pieces that will fit into this changed puzzle that is my heart, so that it matches the picture on the box? Will crafting new pieces help my heart feel kindness for itself, so that it radiates kindness towards me and will help me radiate kindness onto the world once again?
I am slowly realising that I am avoiding exposing myself to a certain type of beauty which has the potential to bring out this pain in the form of tears. I am not listening to music as I can't bear the thought that it will trigger memories that I'd rather stayed buried for now. I am avoiding watching films, series, and documentaries which remind me of cozy evenings on the sofa with the person I loved so much. I don't want to examine nature as the passing of the seasons makes my pain ever more acute and the realisation that as more time is passing, I am being taken away from a time when I truly believed in the illusion of happiness.
Painfully aware that burying and ignoring these emotions isn't a sustainable strategy, I know that at some point my body will rebel and force me to confront it all, nevertheless I am not ready and I do not want to do this alone, not yet.
Over my lifetime there have been many occasions when circumstances and adverse events have forced me to be resilient, to rely on myself to get through life-limiting diagnoses, widowhood, disability, and lone parenting. I have survived each one of those events and I have gone on to thrive, however, this time for some incomprehensible reason I am finding myself not wanting to be resilient, I am tired of resilience, I simply want to be loved.
I am tired of resilience, I simply want to be loved.
There is a perceived wisdom that endings bring new beginnings, however there is also an unwritten assumption that the new beginning are always welcomed. This is only partially true when one has had some say as to the form, manner and timing of the ending, or at least an indication, knowledge or anticipation of the end, making room for a sense of relief even within the grief that endings inevitably evoke. On the other hand, when the ending is thrust upon an unsuspecting party who is then blindsided, no explanation given, no opportunity to understand why, an no room for processing, the idea of a new beginning feels repugnant and downright cruel. The sense of grief is scrambled by confusion, despair and bewilderment.
The body, the mind and the soul reject the notion of moving forward, in the meantime I will continue to muddle through until I recognise myself.
Oh. The raw vulnerability is palpable. I have tears and my heart is heavy. I am sending love your way. Love and strength. Please keep going, keep feeling despite the pain. Catch a glimmer and store it in your heart.💖
This is so raw, vulnerable and beautiful. I think that many times we want nothing to do with the new beginnings--they are simply thrust upon us, and it's usually only in hindsight that we see how necessary they were.
You mentioned that you practice meditation, but you also mentioned that you are resistant to feeling your feelings about everything rn (which is totally understandable), but I wondered if you had ever tried Tara Brach's loving kindness meditation? As I read your piece, I just kept thinking about how it's you that must shower yourself with the love you need, and that might be an accessible way to begin that process.
I also wonder if you have read the work of Byron Katie? Her book Loving What Is was instrumental in helping me let go of the stories around a failed relationship that were trapping me in suffering.
Thank you for sharing something so personal. Sending you healing and love 🩵