Almost the entire time I was home there was a torrential downpour outside. Today, the day I left, it was finally beautiful. My mom and I spent the morning at the beach. Even though it was 8 AM, the sun beamed high in the sky and I could barely stand how bright it was (I didn’t bring sunglasses or a hat). Although uncomfortable at first, I was so happy to feel the sun on my skin. It didn’t matter that it was almost painfully bright. In the context of the beach, it didn’t matter. It felt correct in a way.
I found myself home for almost a week, which was so wonderful and also much longer than I thought I’d be there. I am horrendous at staying in my normal routine when I am home. The comfort of being there and feeling physically safe makes me melt. Usually, I have to fight the overwhelming desire to sleep in order to spend the time I want to enjoy with my family. In being home this time, I forgot to take my medication for many days in a row.
I felt like since I moved to NYC there has been a cry building, but I haven’t had a chance to get it out. While doing my job remotely this week I found myself frustrated and crying in the middle of a strange little combination eyeglass shop and coffee shop in my hometown. I just couldn’t convince myself that what I was doing meant anything. Yet, the crying was a good release.
I was prescribed my medication because of the presumption that I would feel too much without it. When people ask what it’s like to be on it, I often say its common with depression to struggle getting out of bed. With my medicine, there’s no thought of staying in bed all day. Although I know the day may not be pleasant, little pockets of serotonin seem to propel me to face the day. However, an unintended side effect of this is emotional blunting. Sometimes rather than feeling anything at all, I feel numb. Which in some cases, like in major depression, can be better than the terrifying things one can feel.
This weekend though, with my brief reprieve from my prescription, I was able to feel more than I usually do. I felt frustration from work, I felt anxiety from shifting timelines, and I felt sadness from the realization that my first puppy is nearing the end of her life. Although these emotions generally are regarded as negative, I am glad I felt them. All of these feelings are helping to guide me towards what is right for me.
We all want to avoid pain. We are taught as students, as workers, to take the most efficient route possible- to avoid the most grunt work, to avoid the most pain in the ass. And emotionally, most of us do the same thing. We avoid confrontation, we avoid hard conversations because we are afraid they will be painful. Most of the time though, what we feel is important to understanding what path you’re meant to be on.
When I was at the beach this morning I got into the water and at first it was freezing. It’s the same process almost every time you get into the ocean… unless you dive right in. Get ankle deep, then waist deep, then finally have the courage to face the moment of cold discomfort to jump out of the water re-energized and so glad you dipped in. Facing pain is a lot like that. When I feel dread about a conversation or a decision, I know what I have to do, but I am still standing in the shallow, wondering when I will take the plunge. Once the hard part is over though, its easy to remember again what a joy it is to be alive.
ANAGRAM 