These blogs give me a place to try and dig beneath the surface. They give me a place to find my voice. They give me a place to express what is lurking beneath the surface. They give me a place to hold them up in the light and observe them. And the people who read this blog do me the huge honor of being witness to my process. None of these blogs have ever been about anyone else other than myself and what I feel. Unfortunately some things I have shared have hurt those whom I love dearly. Words hurt. Words can't be taken back...especially if they are in print....especially if they are on the internet. You can try to hide the words. You can try to protect people. You can try to delete things to cover things up to either protect others or to keep your one-sided story going. I work very hard at being impeccable with my speech. I work very hard to choose my words wisely. I work very hard not to spread my pain to others. I fail sometimes.
Today, while Tracy and I were on our drive to nowhere, we drove up Idaho Highway 21. We watched the river flowing down and switching sides of the road. We had just taken this road two weeks ago, and this river was quiet. Today, it was raging. The level was high. The water was muddy. It was raging down the mountain, and bringing the dirt with it. It was so high and so full it was making it own way down the mountain side. It broke away from the main river bed and found its own path and joined again with the main flow. Seeing this river rage reminded me of how I feel so often these days.
Two weeks ago, it was calm and peaceful. This week, it was taking over, raging, spilling over and stirring up dirt and bringing the dirt with it. It was making new paths, destroying vegetation (maybe just temporarily) as it went down. This is me. I was calm, or at least I do my best to remain calm. But then a dam breaks or ice melts or a rain storm hits and the river that is my emotions start to rage and yes, sometimes destruction happens. Sometimes, I hurt people with my words. Sometimes I smash dishes. Sometimes I hurt myself by choosing foods I know are not good for me. This happens, because I spend so much of my time keeping my emotions buried. Why? Because they are not pretty and I am afraid that my feelings might hurt others.
So that brought another thought today....
Just beneath the surface.
I know so many people that are afraid of swimming in open water. Why? Because if they can't see beneath the water, they are afraid of what might or might not be there. If they are in an ocean, they are afraid of sharks or being swept away by the riptide. If they are in a lake, they are afraid of vegetation that might pull them under or the water being too deep or some weird fish that might bite them. Either way, they are afraid of what they can't see..of what might be lurking just beneath the surface.
I spend so much of my time, making sure the surface of my ocean is smooth and glassy and peaceful. I have not posted gory details about what is going on in my home. I do not share how I am really feeling. I do not share even a fraction of what is hurting me. It is only those people I see face to face that hear what lurks beneath the glassy surface of my oceans. When they hear, they say, "I had no idea all of that was going on."
The monsters that lurk just beneath my glassy surface are scary. A couple of weeks ago, there was a facebook picture going around and I shared it. It was a picture of some kind of animal with two different attitudes. One was Scary and said (how my kids see me) and the other was all sweet and calm and said something like (How the public sees me). That is how I feel so much of the time right now.
My heart is wrapped in a whole bunch of confusing emotions and I'm not exactly sure how to sort them out. I use to be able to compartmentalize things. "This anger, goes in the box labeled 'dad'" "This fear goes in the box labeled 'Tracy'." "This heart break goes in the box labeled 'Naomi'" You get the idea. Now, instead of having boxes of carefully sorted emotions where I can pick them up and look at them and deal with them one at a time, I have a kelp field just beneath my glassy sea and the kelp is tangling itself around my legs and I am struggling to shake them free and stay afloat. I don't know where the anger is coming from; it's coming from all different directions. I don't know where the sadness started or where it ends. I don't know where this guilt came from or even what I did wrong.
What I do know is that I am finding myself becoming very jaded. I used to go around with a very open heart and give and give and give.. to anyone and everyone who needed it. If you needed money, and I had it, it was yours. If you needed a hug, I wouldn't think twice. If you needed a place to crash, my couch was yours. If you needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there no judgment, no questions asked. Now, I find myself put out and angry. I don't have the energy to listen to you cry about the same ol' stuff. I don't have the compassion needed to read your facebook posts and offer words of comfort. Even though I have the money, I question whether you are going to spend the money I give you wisely. I may have extra room in my house, but I really just want to have immediate family only in my house. I need calm and I wonder, "well how long will they be here. If they can't afford their own place, why don't they work two jobs so they can? If they can't afford this, why are they buying that?" I start questioning everything and lose my compassion and find myself judging. Then I find myself resentful. I resent being taken advantage of. I resent feeling angry. I resent feeling guilty because I want just my immediate family living at home. I resent being lied to. I resent being ignored. I resent feeling bad because I feel bad. I would totally allow people to walk all over me to avoid hurting them or putting them out.. even if they are taking advantage of me. Why? Why do I think I don't deserve respect from the people I love? And yet, because of the way I feel and standing up for myself, these people feel like I don't love them. But really, in expecting more of them and expecting better of them, IS showing them that I love them...whether they see it or not. It's part of being a mom. It's part of being a compassionate person... Enabling people is not love. Teaching them to be independent, holding them accountable is showing them that you love them. But why does it hurt so badly?
Tonight I write this blog because the river is raging and was starting to break its normal path which could cause destruction.. so I write to make way, to give it room to flow to protect the land and people around me. I am kicking away the kelp tangles and doing my best to swim to shore..or at the very least float on my back on the glassy surface while I rest and regain my strength for another plunge beneath the surface.
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