It’s been dark in here- in my head. Like all my goodness is being hollowed out with a shiny new ice cream scoop. I cannot say why, but my brain dances around the dark. I feel small, angry and raw. The slightest struggle turns me into a ravenous Werewolf and I want to lash out at the world saying, “Take it ALL Back- DAMN IT!- I can’t handle any of it!” The werewolf is desperate to protect the little girl in me. She cries and hides her face. She just wants to be loved, protected and remembered.
I fear I have no idea what it’s all worth. What are we doing this for? Who am I ever going to make a difference with and who really cares anyway? Sometimes, it just feels like I am going it alone. Other times, I just feel like my life is sloughing off like dead skin cells and in my own inability to really SEE, I will wake up one morning, used up and it won’t matter to anyone. No one dares ask the about the darkness in my mind, it scares too much.
I know this will pass and I know so many of these feelings are so far away from truth, but sometimes, it it just looks bleak out there. It is exhausting to appear like we are on top of the game all of the time. And worse, if I ask for help, sometimes it just does not come.
Today, I am disappointed and bruised– chest hurts from the hollowing and the werewolf is raging. I want to walk into the arena full of life, standing on the ground of my values and ready to face the challenges of each moment with the messy, stumbly grace that I call all mine. I want to sit at the silver 50’s diner table, topped with rocks of granite that is the baggage of my relationship, and remain honest, open and forgiving. I want to have faith in people, relationships and communicate that I need, I am flawed and often, I will just plain fuck it up.
But today, I feel lost in the desert. I want to ask Jesus and Buddha (yeah, its a two person job sometimes) to come and pick me up and carry me back home. Tell me that when it hurts like this, it will be better tomorrow- or maybe next week- but it will be better. Remind me that I am broken, but I am on the forever journey toward healing. I will die broken, but it is gonna be a beautiful scar- one that will trace this one precious gift that I have been given- My Messy, Beautiful, fucked up life.
I don’t need an A-men, But Can I get a, Yeah, sometimes- “Me Too?”
Transformative Trauma 