I wrote this post yesterday. To preserve how I felt, I’m going to refrain from editing it today (so if there are typos, I’m going to let it go today — probably good practice for a recovering perfectionist).
She talks about staying in the hot loneliness — and this is the pull, the yearning.
I’ve tried to run for so long because damn, it feels so uncomfortable. And we’re not taught to stay, that the pain is a friend, a gift, a teacher. And on a sidenote, the most helpful thing anyone can do for another in this place is to listen, I think. Don’t preach, offer advice (unless solicited), or try and “solve the problem”. It’s not something that needs to be “solved”. Sit there.
Back to the pull space. I tried to run, to hide, to opt out. I ate, drank, dated, worked out, worked, focused on goals, whatever. All to run from the pain. And ultimately, I’m learning you can’t out run it. You have to run towards it, to welcome it in (as much as you can), to sit with the pain.
There is no way around. You have to go through.
I’ve been sensing this more and more; I’m getting it more and more. And I’m sitting a little while longer in the space, more and more. It’s hard and yet easy. And deep down I KNOW it’s the only way through.
I don’t know what will be on the other side. I want to figure it out. I want to know my purpose and what I should do and who I should be.
Every time I see a post from a friend with something new they’ve accomplished or done (like a new job I recently read about for an old teammate) — I start comparing myself (and I always come up short). I feel like I need to do more, be more, have more. I’m ready to ditch MY path; it feels so uncertain and murky. I have no idea what is on the other side of it. It’s easy to get caught up in the old distractions again, or to at least see my hand starting to move towards those easy buttons (food, alcohol, etc.). While for many I know they won’t help and can (fairly) easily say no now, the temptation to hit the button is still there.
I’m napping more now. Perhaps still an easy button, though less self-destructive than others, I think.
I don’t know where this will all lead. I’d like to say I’m getting more comfortable with the unknown — maybe I am a little, though it is still hard to stay on my course and stay with the pull, the yearning, the pain. The space feels like a big — I don’t know what. Cavern?
I started writing to share and (hopefully) find some validation for the hard times. While it embarasses me to say that, it’s true. Perhaps that’s why I stopped feeling like writing for a couple of months — I’d written as much as I needed to in that vein. If I was to keep writing, it needed to come from a deeper, more honest place with myself. I feel like I’m coming more from such a place. I’m trying to write about the confusion, the yearning, the uncertainty, the rage, the joy, the happiness — all of the mess that is swirling around inside.
It kind of feels good as I’m writing more now. Coming from this different place is…something. I’m not yet sure what. But it feels good, so I’m going to keep doing it. I’m also going to keep practicing letting myself feel the hot loneliness and not push it away. Even if I can’t run towards it yet, I’m going to let myself feel it — as much as I can.
And I can do it.