Only five times in my life…
…have I been truly broken. Although there may be times during my childhood that I either don’t remember or altogether expunged from memory, as of today, I’m going to focus on the fifth, April 2020.
The one thing all five moments have in common is the overwhelming and suffocating fear, stemming from profound doubt and uncertainty. I remember all five occurrences because they were dark and deep and dibilitating, the most recent occasion being this past April.
I cannot, without lying, tell you that 2020, as a whole, was all that lousy for me. I am a creature of convenience and the pandemic allowed that for me. What I can tell you is that April 2020 was poignant and painful and truly damaged my morale.
I was already isolated having been a recent transplant and now this? It was hard to breathe. I look back on my first covid article {Controlled by Covid} and truly see how much I was struggling. Trips I was looking forward to for months were now canceled. School closures left my children at home staring at me all day….everyday. Being a mother, while immensely rewarding, is exhausting and emotionally draining. I’m ok saying that now, now that I’ve survived April 2020 and understand how truly far I can be pushed before I start cracking. On top of that, the beautiful, delicious, vibrant city I had come to love had turned it’s lights off and sent everybody home.
Living during these times is not easy for most mentally healthy people – throw in someone who has both anxious and apprehensive tendencies – now you have a real party. The strange part of it all is recognizing the feeling, knowing that it’s coming. That this big, dark cloud is rolling in. I can’t always see the signs beforehand but when I feel them, I know. I’ve never been good at sitting in the feeling, not wanting to admit that it’s really hard and truly engulfing my spirit once again – but when it does, I now attempt to accept it with an almost bitter complacency while relinquishing any strength I thought I once possessed.
People don’t like to talk about the deep, dark, scary stuff – in my case I have to, it is the only way I know how to heal. In April, I learned my capacity for motherhood. In April, I sought answers for some very old questions. In April, I had to learn to distinguish between weakness and ability – two very different measurements. I did the work. Oh, did I ever – sitting with it, my least favorite practice but by far the most healing.
April 2020, I would not recommend nor will I write you a reference. You shattered me, brought me back to life and taught me one hell of a lesson. Give yourself grace. There’s just no way around it. Soak it up, surrender to it and then send it packing. Drink the champagne. Forgive yourself for falling, but more importantly, celebrate yourself for getting back up – even if it is the fifth time.
