Today was one of “those” days. I slipped hard, lost my grip. Of course I sort of knew it was coming on, but I also hoped it would pass. Mostly things come in waves, yes? Ripples to tsunamis. I think that’s true for the majority of us sentient types. I’m not really that different from everybody else, am I? My mind plays tricks preferring to gain the advantage, but surely that’s true for most. Since I’ve only seven days to sort things, however, I cannot afford to wallow too much, or focus on only one aspect of my life. I’ve five decades to review!
This is far from the first time a memory has given rise to shame so intense as to beg incredulity. I ask myself “what’s it all about?” and like Alfie struggle for an answer, all the while trying keep calm and remind myself that I’ve killed no one, started no war. Still, in the grand scheme, I don’t want to feel these feelings anymore, would love to reconcile them, let them go. I do have to ask if maybe I’m just simply insane.
Some of my worst memories are linked to booze soaked decisions like those words spoken under the influence that cannot be unsaid, or embarrassing one-night romps with “don’tknowhisname-guy”. Not all my guilt can be tied to demon alcohol though. Plenty of stupid things were done fully sober. Whatever my condition at the time really makes no difference. The end is the same. I recall highly regrettable events and am transported into a stomach turning, dank, icky darkness. Sickened, I always ask, “How could I?” meaning how could I have done whatever it is I’m remembering.
Tears can help release some of the vice-like grip these feeling have on me, but when they don’t come right away, the sorrow and waves of nausea hold tight. It’s horrific, suffocating, and being in this state can be too much. It’s too much today. I decide get some magic beans.
On the way to Doc G’s office, the tears finally start which causes me to lose the road a tad. It’s not easy driving in this place at the best of times. Luckily, despite the blur, I see the red light. Sobbing, I’m clearly not at my best but in full view stopped at the intersection. I can feel his eyes on me. His laughter rings in my ears. He’s thinking “stupid woman”, isn’t he? I muster a soupcon of chutzpah and catch his gaze as the light turns green. It’s full of concern and he mouths something like “…be okay.” I burst like the proverbial dam, water streaming down my cheeks joining the snot now pouring out of my nose. Stunning picture.
When I’m this far gone, which is seldom I should add, my GP’s nurses slip me into any slight gap in his schedule. I’m not left in the waiting room, instead am shepherded into an examining room where I can sit with the blood pressure cuff and cotton balls. They won’t judge me. Until the doc gets around to me, one or another assistant pops in for idle conversation. I know they’re reassuring themselves I’m not trying to commit harikari with a tongue depressant.
End excerpt from On the Seventh Day
I wish for peace of mind for anyone who is struggling to feel positive, today. Guilt and shame, while necessary behavioural markers for human beings, wreaks havoc on the human spirit when imbalanced. When out of whack, those powerful negative emotions can have us walking gloomy paths of despair and relentless sorrow. Where does the balance get struck? Perhaps in ownership. Owning one’s feelings and allowing them to be ‘okay’ for a time. Or, perhaps with forgiveness. We can only really forgive ourselves but in that act, we open ourselves to ultimate, deep healing. And, perhaps in reminding ourselves that there is nothing done that hasn’t been done before, and better, nothing that cannot be forgiven. Here’s to the peace that comes from loving, forgiving, and owning.