I am sitting at Meineke getting my oil changed.
A show about snowmobiling is on the TV. A summer show about snow? Cold.
The man said I could change it, but I didn't have a preference towards anything else, so I said it was fine.
I have been feeling really heavy the last couple days. Something deep, deep inside of me. This mighty subterranean glacier. I know it's always there. But sometimes I feel its pressure flowing within me with an added weight. Yet, it's not something I can readily talk about because it is not conscious.
The thing is, it didn't take any sort of professional after my first marriage ended to see that I was messed up. One look at me, without ever meeting me before, my voice teacher knew immediately I was in trauma shock. And as with all trauma, time goes on and patterns of behavior begin to emerge that never existed before. Of course there are triggers. But there's a subtle deterioration as well. That's the resting glacier. It breathes with you - in and out, in and out - and it burrows so deep down into unreachable places - into your subconscious - that it seems to just become you. "Time. Just keep letting yourself heal." Okay, okay. But then more time goes on, and it's still there. I know it is still alive. Breathing with me. Weighty, heavy, looming breaths. In and out. In and out. And it hurts. It is so sad. I can't outrun it. And lately it's been...
To not be breathing alone in your own body? When will it stop?
Most of the things that have given me trauma shock in regards to broken relationships I've found people to relate with. I've connected with many, many men and women alike on many many aspects of relationships. I can relate to the frustration of a relationship that is just not in sync despite one's ultimate efforts to get on the same page. The communication isn't open, perspectives aren't shared, support is lacking. Yeah! And I really relate to the added element of betrayal. The lies, the closed doors, the disappearances, the sheepish / guilty / and blame-ridden behavior. Yeah! But even with all those conversations, I still felt a bit empty-handed. A part of me stayed unshared; it found no one to relate to. And so it has attached deeply inside of me and stays my unspoken pain. It is so enormous and feels so endless.
Here it is. The unspokenness. The piece that has drowned me the most.
Having someone abandon you. Emotionally retreat, then physically vanish.
There are few things in life that communicate directly and purely with our hearts. Most of our experiences happen with some sort of screen in the middle. But this was one that took no detour at a guard or round-a-bout, it infiltrated my heart instantly, directly, purely, and absolutely massively.
And the message that stained through all my blood: You are not really wanted. In actuality, you are so so little. You are not worth understanding. Not worth staying for.
And what effect did that have for me? The space around me was entirely destroyed. The space that every human is born with. Their space as a person to exist. Exist with joys, sorrows, laughter, meaning, value, purpose, belonging. I ceased to have that space at all. Collapsed. I had no sorrow worth understanding, no thoughts worth value, no laughter that was wanted. So, I stopped belonging anywhere. Worst of all, I stopped belonging to myself.
And my subconscious took that message and built a glacier inside of me. My abandonment trauma. And sure, it has melted over the years. But still it breathes, sending those chilling messages through my body. You are so little. so so nothing.
And having my subconscious repeatedly whisper that to my conscious - it is so minimizing. My conscious tries to defend me; it argues back; it gives me the loyalty and protection I did not have so many years ago. But the chilling breath of trauma is so much greater than my little breath of truth. I become weakened in thought. I lose my self-belonging. My demeanor, my entire personality, shrinks to the same dimness. All becomes unsafe. And the chill goes on: You are so little. so so nothing.
what a struggle.
And I'm growing a bit afraid of it. Can this be surmounted? How? Everything I try seems to not have capacity of such deep subconscious reaching? What if this piece of my trauma is just too big to overcome?
I see my car being lowered to the ground. My oil change is complete. I have to push this glacier back down for now and get on with my day. It felt good to write about it for this moment. The snow on the show; the snow in my soul.
More thoughts to come. I have a huge deadline tomorrow, so I'll be back :)
Upward and onward,