On being scared ….
I am scared. There, I have said it. I am afraid of this, the happenings that I am feeling right now. I thought nothing more could assail me, and then this appeared out of no-where, to here now. And it is a feeling of being out of control again, which is a state that frightens me and scares me and makes me restless and fearful and unable to sleep. I say ‘this too shall pass’ and yet in the dark of the night it feels that the hands of the clock are slowly driving me insane. I hate the dark tonight, or I should say, this morning. I feel alone in my terror, with only myself and these thoughts for company. I took the over the counter medicine and now I wait and I see if it gives me any reprieve from the ache and the burning that is this bladder tonight. Mark has said that this has been caused by ecoli, and I say ‘whatever, I just want it gone’. I am exhausted by it all, from the back that went twang last Friday, to the continuing food deprivation and now the burning when I pee. And there feels no let up in sight. I am held ransom by this body and I feel angry and overwhelmed and just a little mad at the state of play here. I can say ‘this too shall pass’ and yet right now it is here and the passing is hurting and I am so tired and weary. To have a reprieve from all of this would be rather nice, and yet that is not where I am. I have to weather this new symptom whether I like it or not, and I like it not.
If I could park myself right now I would. I could say ‘I have done everything to help myself, and now I must rest’. And it is hard to do that, so very hard. I am someone who likes action, and wants to makes things happen – and resting and patience have not been my virtues. To ‘rest’ in this feels like a giving in and yet perhaps that is what is called for now. A resting point between the ‘doing’ and the ‘being’ of who I am. I resist and things persist. I go to war at ‘what is’ and there is no room for compassion. My therapist used to say ‘Susie you are so hard on yourself!’ and right now I believe that to be true again. It becomes another measure of failure, rather than an opportunity for compassion. I am compassionate with everyone else, and not with myself. And yet to be compassionate is love in motion and that is something I wish to give myself right now. To be able to say ‘this is not my fault’ feels a difficult sentence to say, and yet it is my truth. I didn’t wish any of this on myself and I have attempted to make good and mend that which has hurt so much. I could blame and lament and shriek and cry, and it would solve nothing. Pain is here and it is better to acknowledge it, rather than go to war with it. Pain is here and I am still okay. Still a worthy person, still worthy of love. Pain is here and I can bear it. And the pain can have a voice and I will hear her. The pain is here, and yet it is not the sum of me, it is just a part that will get better. The pain is here and so am I. I can breathe with the pain and know that it is a temporary thing that will pass.
I consider the fear is because this is so unfamiliar, this particular pain I haven’t had for at least 25 years. So it feels somehow wrong and that has scared me. And yet I did get through this back then, and I can get through it again. And I will get Mark’s meds and I will take them and soon this shall pass, literally and figuratively. And in the meantime I will allow all of these emotions to air themselves out and I will acknowledge them with as much courage as I can. I know that courage and compassion dovetail together to create the mental emotional healing that I need right now. And as Louise Hay says about cystitis ‘I comfortably and easily release the old and welcome the new in my life. I am safe’. And I will dwell in that space for a while.