Today I tripped though, slide (shoved?) down the depression stairs into a pit of self-doubt, and then further into more doubts in general. But this time, it's not for the reasons you might first think. To be fair, I'm not quite sure of the reasons myself and keep asking how I even got here. I thought I had left these particular types/triggered patches behind, thought I was past this place, had already moved on to greener pastures with warmer beaches...?
Stress. All kinds.
Blows our minds.
I guess we always have stress.
I guess, I guess, oh stress oh stress,
I guess we always have stress.
Sometimes good, sometimes bad,
but surely something we've all had.
Stress. All kinds.
It blew mine.
Stress it makes us crazy.
Today we, my colleagues and I, drove past a man losing it on the road, heading southbound toward the 407 ramp. And I mean L-O-O-O-o-hooosing it! Cursing at the top of his lungs and punching the air with his pink, angry fists, while spizzle flew out of his mouth and his appalling, offensive words bounced off the surrounding, traffic-jammy vehicles echoing for all to hear. The woman beside him was motionless, either frozen by fear or humiliation or anger herself, her face hidden by her pale arm resting on the window.
And all for what?
We couldn't help but notice the plates were from Ohio, since at this point we debated if it were necessary to call the police, and the car looked in tattered, rough shape. Maybe he was lost, we guessed. Or the car was about to putz? ... Given, he may have had his reasons to yell. We all do.
But does yelling ever really help? Even when it's the cork popping and releasing tension? Or even then, aren't we better without it? I say yes. Yelling never helps me. It only ever feels awful, and changes nothing.
To see me, you wouldn't think I was going crazy, definitely not like that guy, or even that I showed signs of a rough patch. You would likely think the contrary, since I usually always manage to put on a happy face, turn that frown upside down! I am known to be a smiley face, optimistic, bubbly kinda girl, and I will do my best to keep that side of me - my best most authentic side - up, even when everything else is dragging me down. T
Haters will say that "ain't being real," meanies that put people down will judge and say that it's being fake, a façade.
I say, it's making lemonade, since even if it too is sour, it is still better than nothing, and refreshing either way. I'd always say it's being me, just not letting on to the full show of emotion going on behind the scenes. It always feels better inside when you're smiling outside, even if it takes more effort to make it happen.
They also say that it's all in the power of the mind, positive thinking. I agree. Earlier tonight I had a meltdown, one which has been brewing for days (weeks? longer?). It broke me and I crumbled, literally. I heaved myself in a long, hot, cleansing shower, and devastatingly bawled my head off, since when our hearts are aching, so are our thoughts. Sometimes there just ain't any juice left, ya know?
In any case, sometimes the triggers are less the issue. It's what you do about it that matters.
Besides, the beauty of rough patches is that it's our own sweat and tears that enrichens the soil for the new patch growth just ahead.
Numb, still in the shower, swollen eyes and hot water spilling over my face, I heard a soft voice squeak from somewhere, reassuringly saying "things will be okay, everything is as it should be; it has to rain some days, not all days can be sunny..."
I thought of the motivational speaker, Lesley Andrew I had the honour of hearing earlier today, who moved me to full wells of tears in my eyes at least 6 times, and with whom I connected to the minute she mentioned my Alma Mater. She won over the audience with her open, honest, powerfully educational presentation on Beating the Odds, openly discussing her own battles with dyslexia and various forms of learning "differences." With light humour and silver linings, we heard about other struggles she has long since overcome, everything from social barricades, bullying and abuse, from painful relationships and heroes, to triumphs and little everyday successes.
When she teared up in the question period about her own fight to have a baby, a sob escapd me into my coral pashmina. I left feling deeply touched, moved and motivated by these two hours, and other common threads we shared. If she can overcome all that she has, to be where she is today, than so can I. So can you. So can we all...(don't even get me started on the other speaker...)
And then in a moment, I found myself here, writing again. Finally.
Finally, thank goodness. For me. For you, whomever you may be, this round.
I leave tonight, as always, with peace, love and gratitude ;)
"Always make time, everyday, to do something you love" - Lesly AndrewSweet dreams,
JKForfait
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