$$ June 2022 $$

I have been having a series of terrible months, lately. One after the other. It started early this year, when someone I dearly loved chose to close themselves off to me. It sucked. It hurt majorly. Post that, I spent many months barely breathing, barely functioning, and I hated that it affected me so much. I thought I was more sorted than this. I thought I wasn’t this vulnerable. But I was. Overwhelmed, anxious, hurt, and ashamed.

I reached out to friends, took therapy, made some decisions to trim out the excess, the unnecessary, the non-urgent. I was hoping it would help. It did, for a few weeks. And then I was back to ground zero. So, then when a friend asked me to join her for a trip to the mountains, I jumped. I was really looking forward to it.

There, I spent many a days in my own head, grieving the loss of S, grieving the loss of love, bargaining and negotiating with myself what it would take to be hopeful again. Without force, but conviction. Many a conversations with strangers, where I was in my own world, nodding to them, still joining the dots of my own arc. “What am I supposed to learn from this?”, “What am I supposed to change?”, “What does this lesson demand of me?”, “How do I avoid getting hurt like this again?”

Then, something changed, I made friends, and I felt a little more present. I was still dissociated, still in my head, sleep-deprived, and sad. But I could feel a little more present. And I truly cherished it. I tried to, and opened up my heart. It was nice. The hurt felt less persistent. There were moments of relief, and they were enough.

As I left, I felt the hurt come back. It was always there, so I knew it would show up. I didn’t just know it would be so quick. I had a long chat with my therapist and I decided I was going to be kinder to myself, less critical of me. It felt like I could see some hope again. It was my birthday the next day, so as the idealist I am, I was excited for this to change everything, make everything less murky.

The next day, on my birthday, I learnt about something that made me feel terribly heartbroken. Terribly incapable. Terribly dirty. I felt bad and wrong. Just a day ago, I had made plans for being more tender, more kinder, and more open. And this one thing felt like the dream come true for the skeptic in me. “Don’t open your heart so much, I always said, you idiot.” As someone whose first order of investigation is questioning herself, it really took me to a bad spiral. It wasn’t the best way to spend my birthday.

This morning I woke up and I’m deciding to try again. Try again to open my heart. But in ways it’s not hasty. I am in no rush to be the most open, most loving, most tender, most intentional person. Things are difficult and I have to acknowledge that. I have to work in tandem with myself, I am my most intimate collaborator, and I need to keep checking with me how far she wants to go and at what pace. I am taking it slow. Very, very slow. Grief is cyclical, shame snowballs, working on myself is working with myself and I’m here for her.

In case things have been difficult for you, I hope reading this helps you give yourself the permission to take it as slow as you need. To not judge your pace. To not be ashamed when you trip, because you will. To seek help, in ways that feel safe. Maybe being courageous right now means taking tiny, baby steps on the periphery of your comfort zone. You don’t have to conquer anything today. You are permissioned to just be. Hugs.