And then in less than 24 hours I watched the sedatives from the hospital and my physical pain let them slip through my hands like water that flowed, swirled, and gurgled while laughing at me, down the drain. Which, of course, is totally normal.
But, I am sad to say that I said things that were hurtful to the person caretaking me with the most compassion, heart, and beautiful selfless, detail imaginable.
I said: Stop worrying about me, I’m fine. You don’t think you can leave me alone because I’ll fall down the stairs and kill myself? I’m not a baby. You’re freaking out and it’s stressing me out. I can’t be stressed out because I’ll be sicker, and now it hurts more. Don’t’ you trust me, Do you think I'm an idiot. You think I have to call the hospital now? Why, because who said, some pharmacist? I’m fine. FINE. STOP FREAKING OUT …
…only I… can’t… breath… tears, snot, sob sob sob.
It took me a minute to realize that even though that’s what I said, what I actually meant was:
Note to self- STOP FREAKING OUT!!!
I’m attacking you about being worried, because I’m the one that's worried.
This isn’t fair.
I’m in pain.
What did I do to deserve this?
I want to go off by myself, and suffer, and come back when I’m “better”
- So that I can protect you from feeling pain
- So that I can protect you from being scared, looking at yourself, and having to see your own mortality
- So I can protect you from thinking that you may lose me one day
- So that I can protect you from me
You don’t’ deserve this.
No parent, partner, friend, lover, community, deserves this, deserves dealing with me.
So, let’s face it, the only skill left to me after my emotional deconstruction was that of repair. Of saying I’m sorry. Of trying to take responsibility … to de-vomit what I had spewed-out in a dramatic rewind, and let you know that I’m aware that this is actually mine.
Chemicals and pain aren’t an excuse to hurt those we love. But it happens anyway. So maybe what’s left is trying to repair it with, hopefully, the willingness, compassion, and heart of the other party. Sometimes it’s such a relief to be human and messy and unskillful, and sometimes it is so hard to do that without a sense of entitlement. Like I can hurt you because I’m being authentic right now. Some kind of contempt of being so fabulously “vulnerable.” How do we give ourselves the permission and relief to be an unskillful mess, while also not intentionally bulldozing over the people we love the most... and when we do, have self-compassion and repair it? I don’t know that I have an answer to that yet... maybe it's something about acceptance that it will happen, love for ourselves when it does, and hope that we can have a conversation about it.. I know I’m doing my best with deep gratitude to the people that love me enough to say, ya, you fucked up, you hurt me, but I love you anyway. I’m still here and I still want this relationship.
So take a breath and give yourself some love right now, because we’re all trying our best to figure this out, together through fear, snot, pain, and relationship.
Thoughts? Comment below: