Waking up

I feel fuller, on a consistent basis, than I have felt in years. I am coming alive; waking up. This doesn't mean I'm happy all the time; I'm okay with that because I finally don't feel empty. I am FEELING things. I can't tell you how long it's been since I've really felt things.

I've been going through a bit of heartbreak, to tell the truth. I met a great guy. It was brief but we had a deep connection, and it was just enough to give me a taste of what I've been longing for all these years, and then it was gone. I never expected to be drawn to someone so fast (I'm not much of a romantic), but I went with it and allowed myself to feel. Partly, I have felt gratitude for the amazing time spent with this person; when I was with him I felt inspired and deeply appreciated. This experience, indeed, helped push me to believe that the richness of life that I long for belongs not only in fairy tales but is real, attainable. Also, I have been feeling a longing for him that has been slowly replaced by sadness. I am sad partly because I miss this particular person, but also because I have been alone for too long, and it is painful to have the need for companionship momentarily filled but then left empty again, more wanting than ever. The sadness, heartbreak I feel has shown remarkable longevity given the brevity of the actual encounter.

There was, of course, pain before; what distinguishes this pain is my new-found ability to feel it fully. To face it, to not shrink from it. That ability, in turn, comes from the more fundamental change, the most important change: I am learning to value myself, to love myself.

For most of my life I have suffered from low self-esteem, unending guilt, feelings of worthlessness and deep inadequacy. Now and again I'd believe good things about myself, but the moment I encountered even the slightest hint of my supposed inadequacy, my confidence faded and words of praise (from myself or others) became grey, meaningless, impotent. My brain reasoned: sure, the fact that I'm kind to people is good, maybe makes me a "good person", but what good is a little, easy, boring kindness in the face of my inability to .... (work hard enough, be responsible enough, make a big enough impact on the lives of others, be confident enough, try hard enough, etc, etc). Nothing was enough; no amount of accomplishments, kind words, or good deeds could change my essential, irredeemable inadequacy.

As I write the words, I still feel the deep ache that they brought to my life, the sorrow that I have not yet fully moved through. How sad it is to spend your years mired in the knowledge of your failure. What incredible, unnecessary grief have I endured at my own hand, though not by my own choice.

I believe that the fleeting nature of my self-confidence greatly reduced my ability to deal with pain. For example, in the past when I was rejected by a love interest, I immediately put the subject out of my head, because the pain in store for me was not just the loss of affection from one person but a confirmation of my harrowing fears that I might not be loveable. I survived for years by feeling as little pain as possible--avoiding painful situations, shutting thoughts out of my head--because I did not have the reserves of self-love to pull myself back up after being knocked down by the small and large hurts of life.

......

Writing those words reawakened my self-doubt, sadness, hopelessness, so quickly and deeply that I had to stop writing and cry and then sleep, taking respite in the night.

But here I am the next day ready to continue. :)

So, yes, I am letting myself feel pain. New pains of heartache, old pains of doubt; but even the old pains, the old pains that were not just sadness but also dull and death-like, cannot hold me for more than a few hours. My spirit has awakened. I am not yet fully confident in its steadfastness but I am not worried, for it is here now and I know it is strong. I have hope. I am here. I am alive!

I am learning to love myself. So now I can feel heartache over a lost lover, because at the same time that I am sad for his absence, I am also rejoicing in my own beauty and wisdom and depth and splendor. My heart beats, throbs, with joy.

I still have lost moments, sad moments, dull moments, but I am so grateful for direction and for abundance of love and for cool breezes. I am reading again, because my heart is now able to engage; I have the energy to appreciate books again. I will be applying to grad school in the fall, and I've already found some programs I'm excited about. Hope is now a real presence in my life; hope for a rich life filled with love, for myself, for others, from others, for my work, for my music, for the beckoning earth.... Who knows, maybe under difficult circumstances my depression will relapse; surely I will still feel many moments of painful self-doubt; but I am not so cowed by these things anymore, because I am now experiencing that they are not all that there is to life; I am experiencing that more is possible. I still have fear; but I am going to be brave and give voice to my growing hope. :)

Yes, indeed, when the pain begins to sneak back in, and the fear shows its face, I find it very helpful to remind myself that I have courage to call on, and I can use that courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And one foot in front of the other has taken my this far--it's not so unreasonable to expect that a good life could actually be in store for me. I have courage; I have strength; I know this about myself and am proud of this, and that pride and confidence is a beautiful place to start.