Whittle It Down

[jeudi]

Last night I found myself remembering a particularly hard day, lived many years ago, in the  beginning of my widowhood. It was the first moment I allowed the totality of what had happened to me to sink in.

 

And in that moment I felt overwhelmed.

 

Anyone who has never truly felt overwhelmed will not understand what a terrifying feeling it is. To any who pay it lip service- well don't. To those who experience it, it is like something wicked and dark corners you and rips out your heart with blackened teeth and then stands there in your face, breathing with a horrible, unfathomable stink and daring you to try to find air for yourself.

 

I have always known myself to be strong and resilient. I remember wondering what in the hell was I going to do? Strength and resilience were out the door. How in the world could I continue on? I knew I wanted to keep going. And I also knew that I hurt too much to do it. I knew there was so little left of me that there was really no use trying to pick up pieces and put them back together. How do you build with no foundation? I was facing a pile of rubble. Terror upon terror. And worse, I was just-so-tired.

 

Depleted. Terrorized. Lost. Foundationless. And worse again...without.

 

I couldn't stay with that feeling of overwhelmed. That feeling was a tornado poised to take me away and cast the pieces far and wide. Just considering ovewhelmed was too much. With so little left to work with I could not make a start at anything. All I could really do was hang on and wait until the world traveled around the sun more and more times.  I sat and waited. I focused on what seemed to be a single grain of sand and only on that one grain of sand.

 

Instead of rebuilding with the pile of rubble I found out the value of whittling it down, of letting everything unessential fall away until I had just the tiny grain of sand in my hand. It was pretty much all I could really do. Not much but still something.

 

When the outside world would interfere I handled things the best I could and regrouped by opening my hand and reflecting on that tiny grain. It was still there. Still small. Still doable.

 

This was how I survived.

 

I lost my will but I waited and then waited more until my will was born again. It grew on its own, out of something I thought was long gone but there must have been something microscopic left. It allowed me to consider more and to begin to live again.

 

I lost my fight but I waited and then waited more until the fight started glowing faintly again. Then I could fight again.

 

I lost my spark but i waited and then waited more until the spark came alive again. Then I could sparkle again.

 

 

When you have suffered the loss of your love it brings you to a barren place. Be patient and don't take on anything except what you find when you ignore that black toothed beast, open your hand, and see that tiny, tiny seed of life laying there. Your only job is to protect it until you are ready to plant.

 

I know you can do it.

 

 

xoxo

 

Judy

 

 

 

 

[Wheelerswife]

Judy,

 

I have not read something stated quite like this before. But as I read it, I found myself in your words.

 

Thank you for this perspective.

 

Maureen

[BrokenHeart2]

Wow Judy, you nailed it! So profound.  I remember feeling just as you described. It's coming up to 5 yrs next month it's feeling like the seed may be sprouting just a little bit.

Hugs

 

[jeudi]

People throw around the idea of "overwhelmed" all the time. I remember thinking it was something very new to actually be experiencing it. I figure it was at about six months that my daughter came into my bedroom where I was sitting on the edge of the bed weeping. She sat down next to me and held my hand. All I could say to her was,

 

"I don't think I'm doing very well."

 

I so hate that I allowed her to see me so stripped down. Even though she was only 17 she had the courage to face seeing her Mom like this and know to tell me that it was ok. Not that everything was going to be Ok but that this feeling of being overwhelmed was OK.

 

To understand one's own resilience and to face that which leaves you foundering is just scary. Those feelings that I was close to actually losing myself were always right at the edge of my awareness. Later, when more time passed I could deal with my broken spirit. It was a bit like letting go of the tenuous grip I had on...well, holding on. No place to fall. No place to land. So I just held on and focused on that tiny grain of myself and waited. And when I let go I accepted that I would fall and that I would land. No idea of how I would fall or where I would land. I've always considered it a leap of faith brought about by no other options.

 

Grief was worse than I believed it could possibly be.  I could not imagine it or anticipate it or make peace with it.

 

 

I hope that makes sense.

[Toosoon2.0]

Oh, jeudi - this is just perfect.  It is me then and it is still me now.  Thank you for sharing it. 

 

[sudnlysngl]

so perfectly said for so many of us here jeudi, thank you...

[Euf]

 

Be patient and don't take on anything except what you find when you ignore that black toothed beast, open your hand, and see that tiny, tiny seed of life laying there. Your only job is to protect it until you are ready to plant

 

Grief was worse than I believed it could possibly be.  I could not imagine it or anticipate it or make peace with it. 

 

 

This is perfect. It puts it all into words that make sense.

 

It took a long time to find the seed and then know where to plant it.  Then to water and fertilize and wait until it grew.

 

It didn't grow into my old life, but it grew into a new life.

[jeudi]

It didn't grow into my old life, but it grew into a new life.

 

I got a palm reading when I was in my twenties. The lady told me that my life had two distinct lines- my life would change dramatically where the lines split. The original line actually fades away eventually after the split occurs and after the split the new line continues as strong as the original line.

 

Never had any idea what that meant until now. Just thought it was hocus pocus. Hmmm...(?)

[BrokenHeart2]

So much wisdom in these posts.  Thank you for describing how I felt and sometimes still do!

 

 

This is perfect. It puts it all into words that make sense.

 

It took a long time to find the seed and then know where to plant it.  Then to water and fertilize and wait until it grew.

 

It didn't grow into my old life, but it grew into a new life.

 

Makes perfect sense to me.