June 2022…Went back and forth on whether to share this on my blog, but in the end, petal after petal I decided to share. To often we hide how we are really feeling, because we are afraid of judgement. I say fuck the judgement (sorry Dad – I don’t think there is many more f bombs). Judge away, but remember to look in the mirror while you judge.
The water crystal clear, sand soft below my feet, I float freely along with the peaceful rocking waves. The clouds above fluffy, blocking the bright rays from my eyes as I drift calmly parallel to the shoreline. Looking down I can no longer see below me, the water dark. Where did the sand go? Darkness. Bubbles in front of my eyes, my chest swelling with pain. I can’t reach the bottom. How far did I float? Darkness surrounding me, enclosing, I can no longer see. I am numb, cold, sinking…
I’m drowning. Thoughts invade my paralyzed mind. I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I tried to find the right path. Still blinded by darkness, I lose control, I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…
The weight sits heavy on my shoulders. I am at the bottom, the sand rocky, poking my skin, making me uncomfortable. I still can’t see, can’t move, there’s so much pressure. How did I get here? I never wanted to be in this position again. The feeling of a scary dimly lit damp basement that smells of rotting wood and stale mold with no way out. I survived this once before. I was able to stand tall with both feet firm on the pavement, strong, not even the insane Nevada wind could push me over.
But here I was. Swallowed whole by the freezing lake. My chest on fire. Lost in this darkness. Nobody was going to be able to find me. The water too dark, too deep. I am a survivor. A fighter. I just don’t know how to get out of this situation. Lost in the depths unable to breathe, unable to scream for help. I can’t show my weakness. I have to be strong. My tears falling in solitude. I keep the dark thoughts to myself.
The pressure was building. It was becoming too much for my small frame to handle. I was buckling, the emotion was going to gush from every pore if the pressure didn’t subside. Still uncomfortable I laid there at the bottom wishing I could see, could breathe, could float to the surface. I just wanted to feel warm, feel the sun on my skin, and to stop this pain. Uncertain how I could do so. If only I had been wearing a lifejacket…
Would a lifejacket have saved me? I doubt it. With my luck somehow it would have been defective and I would still be in this position. I know how to swim, how to float, and even that didn’t save me. I was dark. How could I save myself? I seemed to be asking myself this over and over. Was I losing more of myself as the days went by?
I knew that I was the only one with answers on how to get help. Afterall, nobody even knew I was here. The further I drifted the colder the atmosphere grew. I am a stubborn one. I was shutting down. The pressure was getting to be too much. The last breath was holding on. My body was started to combust.
The darkness wrapped itself tighter around me constricting my movements. My ugly crying was loud. I vomited the ugliness I had been holding in too those close to me. I could feel the shock of what I spewed vibrating off their warm caring souls. The path that led to this was not one I saw coming, but I made decisions, ones I would never take back. Now I am drowning, seeing red, as I sink further.
Bubbles surrounded me. I couldn’t feel the rocky bottom. I could see again. There was light, but I was still under water. WHY!?! I said everything!!! I erupted like a volcano. It all escaped from me like a whitehead popping under pressure. Was I not clear enough? I don’t think I was. The snap and crackle were heard, but not the damn POP! Seriously. What do I have to do to be clear??? I need to get to the surface. Please!!!
I have realized I am going to float out here in the depths of the coldness for a while. No matter how clear I am, people will only hear what they want to hear. People listen to respond, not listen to listen and actually hear what needs to be heard. If they actually listened to everything one had to say they probably wouldn’t leave people helpless.
Although I am cold, frozen to be honest, I am responsible for myself; I am responsible for my attitude and efforts in life. I can be sour about how things are and not make changes or I can realize things are the way they are FOR NOW and start to make the changes necessary to make me happy. Not all things in my life can change. I have to decide if these things are worth making a big deal over or if they are things I just set to the side until I know how to handle the issue.
Letting go of things isn’t easy, but for my health it has become a necessary need. We all know Covid hit the world. I would like to say it just knocked me off balance, but it didn’t. It bent me over and had its way with me. Is it finished yet? Who knows. I am not a scientist, just a plain old human with common sense. Covid and I got real close this year. Instead of just a hand job it decided to rip my insides out and see if I could still survive. I couldn’t work. I ended up losing my job – thank you for fucking me without giving me the big O… And it just got worse from there. I like to try and stay positive, but it felt impossible through all of this. I was down in the dumps hanging out with Oscar. I tried to be happy, tried the whole fake smile bullshit, nothing was working. Until I let my stubbornness take over.
I decided to fight. I mean I already lost my job, was getting screwed left and right…how much worse could it get? I was determined to feel somewhat normal again. To be active, even just a little. I didn’t care if I had to use a rollator at my age. I was going to do whatever it took to start to feel like me again. Was it easy? Hell no. Even now it is not easy. The doctor told me it would take at least a year if not longer to feel 100% again. I still can’t exercise like I was. I still can’t go for 5k walks, I still can’t do a lot of things, but I am not giving up on being me. Does that mean I feel great? No longer depressed? I wish. I am on a path to recovery and every day I feel just a tiny bit better.
I would probably feel worse, but I already know that I am the only person who can control my attitude and my effort in this world. Sure, I can blame whomever the fuck I want that I am not happy or that my life sucks or that I can’t afford this or that, but you know what? It isn’t anyone else’s fault that I am not happy or that my life might suck, that I feel like I am drowning daily. I make myself happy and I let everyone that I allow in my life to add to my happiness. Those that are in my life help me make my life whole. I don’t want to depend 100% on others. I like being independent, but I recently learned we need to be okay with realizing we will never be completely 100% independent; we are all interdependent on each other. Which means I need to stop being so damn stubborn when someone is handing me a helping hand as I stink to the bottom.
There are kind hearted people out there willing to help when one is in need. Especially drowning to unknown depths, but I have to remember to be open and stop hiding the pain, the hurt, the ugly feelings, because keeping it all in only makes me sink further and further, beyond reach. If I sink too far, I might not be able to be saved. If I want people to be honest and open with me, I better be honest and open with them.
Making the choices I have lately has helped me extremely. I have let a lot go, because of this, I can breathe again. I am still drowning, I can see sunlight, it is not enough to warm me up, but it is a start. I have much to work on. By starting this work, I hope that I will be able to reach the surface soon and maybe by the end of the year I will be sitting in the warm sand on the shore instead of at the bottom of the lake in the cold darkness.
We go through life either like zombies, with our heads held high, staring at the ground, on a leash, or a mixture. I can say I have gone through life doing it all. As I look around me and I see myself drowning I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I am staring at the ground trying to find the correct path to go down. As the bubbles cross in front of me and I lose control I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…
You can try and rescue me, but only I am in control. I know how to float; I know how to swim. I am strong, but sometimes I am weak. My stubbornness kicks in and I will survive once again. I AM.
Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop