No longer running
from fear or myself.
We spend so much of our lives doing our best to avoid the hurt. We shape and mold and squeeze ourself into spaces to try to control the uncontrollable. To protect ourselves of the potential dangers — the hypotheticals our brain has run through so many times. The break-up, the betrayal, the loss of a loved one. All of these fears, like chains keeping us in line, telling us how or how not to be. Holding us hostage and telling us we’ll never survive it. There’s no way.
But what happens when what we fear most, finds us? When the betrayal catches deep in our throats and flips our stomach upside down? When they move on while we are still the one grieving?
The answer is… well, everything and somehow, nothing.
Our world feels like it’s folding in while simultaneously it continues to spin. People go to work, they kiss their loved ones, they eat a sandwich for lunch. Somewhere someone is having a really hard day and somewhere someone is having an outstanding one.
Our deepest darkest fear coming to fruition feels like the finale we didn’t see coming — or maybe we did — and yet, life goes on. It’s a weird thought to think that time can stand permanently still for someone, like you’re trapped in the surrealism of what just happened. EVERYTHING has changed for you but nothing changes for anyone else.
Over the past 2 years, grief has been an inconsistent up and down. A rollercoaster of feeling good one day, then destroyed the next. Sometimes you can feel as if you have come so far and healed so much only to feel as if you are back at day one after a single moment.
What i’ve learned about fear is you can do your best to prepare. You can think of every worst case scenario, play it on loop within your mind — over and over and over. You can ‘think’ you’d know what it feels like if that ONE thing were to happen. That thing that would indefinitely shatter you to pieces. You can try to avoid the fear, control every minute detail thinking that if you could just micro-manage your way through life and relationships, that fear will never come to pass.
And then it does.
It happens.
Despite your best effort.
And what you feel now is the real feeling you were so terrified of. It wasn’t actually the fear that imprisoned you. It was facing yourself at the end of it all.
It was the feeling of helplessness — the realization and surrender that you cannot control how someone hurts you. You can’t prepare for it, even if you have. You can’t avoid it, even if you try.
All you can do now is decide how you will face it. How you will face yourself and the deep wounds and grief that have engulfed you.
Day after day you will choose how you handle the hurt and everyday won’t look the same. Some days you will choose to lay in bed and cry for the sadness needs to be felt. Some days you will choose to be angry, to be protective over yourself. The anger needs to be felt. Some days you will feel joy. Joy that you’re still you. Joy that you are capable and strong. Some days you will feel dread — dread for the future.
Some days you will feel hope — hope for the future.
Over the last few years, as I’ve faced some of my deepest fears, I’ve found that there is truly no running. From my fears or myself.
Both will always find you.
And how lucky are we to be able to know ourselves this deeply.
With love,
Marah