I have been searching for my “home” all of my life. Not the traditional “home” we think of as a roof, windows and walls, but the metaphorical “home.” My soul’s “home.”
Pick an emotion, any emotion and that’s me right now. Heartbroken, angry, sad, hopeful, hopeless, ashamed, foolish – I’ve been bouncing around the edges of so much pain and loss the past few days, and I thought I could handle it, but as I write this post I realize I am not handling it at all. I am most assuredly floundering.
I have been searching for my “home” all of my life. Not the traditional “home” we think of as a roof, windows and walls, but the metaphorical “home.” My soul’s “home”.
I thought I’d finally found that with the man I’ve been sharing my life with for the past five years, but perhaps I’m meant to be a nomad, moving from place to place, relationship to relationship without ever feeling like I’ve been truly seen or accepted; without ever feeling like I am enough. Perhaps I am just too broken.
It’s probably too much to ask of anyone to share a life with a woman with multiple chronic illnesses and pain that never goes away.
It’s probably too much to ask of anyone to share a life with a woman with multiple chronic illnesses and pain that never goes away. I’m terribly unreliable. I disappoint. I let people down. There are too many waves to ride and I imagine he feels like he’s drowning. I understand, but my heart is in pieces because I want so much to believe that there is more to me than just being this sick woman.
Maybe there is a way for he and I to step back from the cliff we’re on right now, as we’ve been able to do in the past, but honestly it feels like we are headed over the edge. I am already broken, so the landing will seem almost anti-climactic.
It’s such a helpless feeling. I don’t know what I can do or what I can say to make things better, because the one thing that will make it better is for me to be healthy, and it’s the one thing I cannot do. I cannot fix it. I cannot will myself well. I try so hard to rise above being “sick” and to not let it define me, so it’s rather ironic (if it weren’t unbearably painful) that it is, in fact, defining me now.
It’s usually when things feel out of control that my anxiety level ticks up. Dealing with multiple health issues means accepting that so many things are beyond my control. To counter that, I do my best to focus on the things I can control – like eating healthy, exercising as I’m able, practicing yoga and meditation to keep me in the moment, pursuing new treatments and surgeries to offset some of my most troubling symptoms, remaining hopeful, and allowing room for acceptance.
Despite the emotional place I’m in right now, I know I’ll survive. I always do. I’ve been through enough in my life to know I’m most certainly resilient. There is some peace in that; a slight easing of the pain and angst I feel at the thought of my relationship ending. If nothing else, age brings us a measure of perspective, a wisdom born of experience that’s missing when we’re younger.
So, as I’m struggling with this latest round of “not enoughness,” I will draw strength from some of my favorite things: a cup of steaming hot chai tea, a good book, conversations with my grandkids, working in my garden, and remembering this quote by S. C. Lourie:
“Be confused, it’s where you begin to learn new things. Be broken, it’s where you begin to heal. Be frustrated, it’s where you begin to make more authentic decisions. Be sad, because if we are brave enough we can hear our heart’s wisdom through it. Be whatever you are right now. No more hiding. You are worthy, always.”
You Don't Look Sick Blog 