Managing It

I woke up in a good mood. Light week for work being the week between Christmas and New Year's, the holidays were actually decent for me which is rare, and there isn't anything too bad looming in the distance. My pain levels had been increasing for days as the things I use to manage and keep it to a level where I can still function had been taken away with holiday stuff and frankly laziness. I saw as the day wore on that my irritation was heightened. I felt like people were telling me things to purposefully jab at me when they were only talking. I started fighting with people online, and though I joke that it's fun for me (it is), I observed that everything was making me angry and my pain was getting worse.

Deal with the anger or the pain? Are they even separate? I stopped fighting and reached out to friends. One validated my feelings while also confirming that my fighting was only hurting myself. Another gave me just enough comfort that I was able to calm and walk away. I finally got away from social media and went to my yoga mat. As I breathed before doing anything I felt the agony of the pains throughout my body. Though I've been told my condition isn't progressive I can feel the pain is worse. Bessel Van der Kolk's book, "The Body Keeps the Score", talks about how we hold our trauma in our bodies. Yoga theory says we hold our emotions in our bodies. This felt very real as I became full of rage, and my muscles spasmed, and I held back tears.

So much work. I can't imagine most people could fathom the level of work I am constantly doing on myself. It's why when someone tells me I should work on myself that I'll smile and hold back telling them they should work on fucking themselves. I'm exhausted from all the work. I feel like I've been swimming in a turbulent ocean forever, and sometimes get sight of the shore, only to be taken over by a wave. When someone throws out a hurtful cliché, or commentary as to what they feel is wrong with me, it feels like being hit over the head just as you are trying to gasp for air. I will always be a work in progress. I know its only through the work that we make it to the other side. But I'm so very tired.

I did my yoga, breathed hard, and saw a huge correlation between my pain and my anger. They fuel each other and keep me in a state of aggression and suffering. My question is which I should manage first yet I know the answer is both. 

I don't hate my anger as it helped me survive. Had I not gotten livid at what happened to me I would have given up. Being angry gave me drive, it helped me endure, and it got me to this moment. I'm not sure what the pain did for me but I guess it could be said it made me more aware of everything. I don't like either but I accept each has its place. 

How much of this comes down to caring about myself first? Putting my peace above the need to slam someone? Doing what is best for my pain levels in managing my emotions?

I take another breath and try once more.

The Stocking

I write letters to a site called Future Me frequently which allows you to send a note to yourself some time in the future. I send them a month out or even years from now, with the purpose of self observation, seeing how bad situations work out, or simply to give myself reminders of things I feel I need to know. I woke up this morning to a Future Me letter from Christmas morning of 2020. I had apparently done some manifesting work and had been encouraged to project what I'd like to the future so this letter came from a year prior detailing my hopes and dreams. It was a long letter that went to great detail of my hopes for today. Nothing, not a single thing, came true. In fact, I'd say it happened for everyone around me but just not for me. Had it been goals I hadn't achieved, things that require action and effort, I could have regrouped and tried again. Yet my longings were the things that seem to be random luck as to whether you get it or not. Another year of nothing. 

I tried to stuff it down but then the Christmas texts started coming in. "Merry Christmas! What are you doing today?" Today I'm doing not doing anything. Today I'm alone. And I don't want to talk about it or have anyone feel sorry for me. I got through a few more texts and then the tears began to fall. I wiped my face as I replied back "I'm doing good. Might do some yoga later and hit the Christmas wine early. Have a great day with your family!" I glanced back at the Future Me letter and the sobbing grew harder. I looked at my little Christmas tree and decided I would take what little decorations I have up and store them away. I don't want to see it anymore.

A few weeks prior to today I'd looked over at a card I received and noticed a Christmas stocking as part of the picture on it. Wavering between trying not to feel, and fully wallowing in self pity, I thought back to my Christmas stockings of the past 25 years. When I was married I did most everything for Christmas. Even hating it I wanted my son to have good memories and to feel happy. In my family growing up Christmas stockings were really just for candy and presents were wrapped under the tree. I did the same when I had a family of my own but usually including a few trinkets the person might like, a gift card, or something of that nature. And every year I got nothing. I'd bring out the stockings and my husband would make a surprised face and turn to me and say, "sorry....I forgot yours". Every. Single. Year. Now he did give me nice Christmas gifts or at least gift cards to places I genuinely liked. But not once did I have anything in my stocking. I'd look over and give a lock jawed smile, nodding that I understood he was supposedly sorry for letting me down once again. All that empty stocking said to me was that I didn't matter.

While minimally decorating for the holidays I came across my old stocking. I looked at it with pain and hatred with the added reminder that once again it would most definitely be empty. I pondered what I could do to turn this around. How could I bring myself some peace or even just a little smile. With this thought in mind I came across a truly frivolous item. Something I didn't need, a bit obnoxious and over the top, and what I'd truly love. I decided this was my gift to myself for enduring so many years of misery. This would be my little trophy to say that I do matter...even if only to myself. I purchased at the first of the week, regular shipping, and by some twist of fate it came in time for Christmas. 

So today I'll sit home alone, likely drink too much wine, and stare out the window wanting time to speed up and have this day be done. I'll write a Future Me letter to next year with the hope that maybe it will be different the next time. I'll look at my new shiny silver glitter purse, and tell myself that I can fill my own stocking, and perhaps this is simply what my life experience will be.