Lately I’ve been discombobulated, but I think that the re-bobulation has commenced, and I don’t feel so out of body and wondering when the next shoe will drop. I wish that meant that I’m doing better, but the truth is my heart is so heavy. I feel as though I read story (scroll down for that story) after story of loss and grief and turn into a hot mess that can barely function each day. Like a deer in headlights, I stare out the window trying to get my brain around all that is happening in this world. We have our share of struggles around here, and I know this is where my heavy heart is originating from. My barely-scraping-by takes me out at the knees and my coping skills are almost non-existent. It makes these sad stories even stronger in my heart than normal. The sadness others experience is suffocating to me, and I’ve not even the person going through what they’re all going through. Is it possible for empathy to be crippling?
Maybe you are reading this and saying, “doood. stop reading sad stories!“, and honestly I wish I could. But until the day that we finally decide to go off grid and embrace the Amish lifestyle, there’s no escaping the sorrow that is happening every day, all around us. Maybe it’s the tortured artist part of my soul that can’t look away or stop thinking about these things, but I can’t tell if the sad stories have me feeling like a puddle of mush, or if I’m just such a hot mess that I’m gravitating towards people that feed my heavy heart.
Sometimes I feel as though I can sense every inch of my aching brain, like I’m aware of the curves and turns and wish it would just go numb a little. My heart is at such a heightened state of sensitivity, that when my child is having a hard day I almost feel like the sad energy has my whole body reverberating with the hardship of it. And the anticipation of it getting worse. And worse.
I read my own words, here, and even I don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s not like great things aren’t happening in my life, they are raining down. And that’s what I want to be thinking about, focusing on.
Getting this out in words, no matter how esoteric and nonsensical to 90% of you, does help. I’m still a hot mess, but at least I’m no longer discombobulated. That made me itch.