It’s not the easy answer it seems, but it’s the lesson this time around. The older I get, the less I really know. I tend not to give myself a lot of grace and gentleness. I remember my post partum days after giving birth – and looking at my flabby bloated body in the weeks after wondering if I’d ever feel normal again. The advice books all said “it took 9 months to get in the shape you’re in, it’s gonna take that long to get out of it too.”
I know all this change and healing is for the best and I’m tired of just re-wrapping the duct tape around the emotional wounds but man they were really festering and ugly. Grandma used to put iodine on my scraped knees. It would hurt so bad I’d bite my lips till they bled while huge tears rolled down my face but she would say “It’s for the best honey. We have to kill all the bad stuff so you can heal up”.
And oddly – for me – it seems these situations are falling at my feet for me to make peace with them. I have taken on the burdens of the world, and been a very poor manager. I’ve displayed the same traits I loathed in others. While I thought my intentions were good, I was just a scared hurt little girl trying to find a grown-up. I’ve always remembered my bad choices, reviewed each one of them many times a day, but I never owned them. I’m ready to forgive myself for them. I’ve apologized where needed, but I’m not seeking anyone else’s forgiveness. That’s not in my control. I think that’s why I’ve been cocooning the last few months. I knew this was inside me, and was boiling up to the top. I needed to face myself without distraction.
The good news is that I have a safety net of friends available by text or telephone, plus I’m enjoying visiting with my next door neighbors and they are good people. My boyfriend lives just 8 houses down the street from me, and I have a list of others I can call if I need something. I’m not alone.
I just get locked up when my heart and my actions are in conflict. Thank you to the old friend who sent a text from Shanghai. It was exactly what I needed.