At Least Now, I Float

My reality never makes sense. Not being able to understand, fix, or change it is enough to make me crazy. It never gets easier. Just different. I learn how to carry it better because there is no alternative.

I pour every bit of love and hope that I can out into the world because I can make a positive difference, and it could be someone like my own kid that I wind up helping. Or someone like me. And since my kid is beyond my help, my heart is desperate. This love has to be channeled in some direction other than inside me, the weight of it is too much to bear. It drags me under.

A few years ago, I didn’t think I would be able to survive very long. I couldn’t imagine being in a place to help others, because I couldn’t even get out of bed. I couldn’t stop crying. Every day I woke up feeling so much sorrow/rage (this is a common grief emotion for me). Every day I woke up wishing there was something sturdy and strong I could break into pieces, fueled by the enormous amount of emotion, and the utter helplessness of my situation. I needed something to spend all those feelings on, instead, I did nothing. All of this love, and anger, and so many other things I still don’t have names for, spread into every part of me. So much pain. So little hope. But slowly things started changing.

Turning the pain into purpose allows me to move beyond just existing. And it helps take my focus off of me. This is another area being purposeful is helping me with. It helps keep my mind outside myself. And that’s a really good thing. Because when all I think about is me and my troubles, I spiral downward quickly.

This doesn’t change what I’ve lost, or make me able to understand why things happened the way they did. But it does change my perspective. And it gives me hope. I couldn’t imagine being where I am now, three years ago. I couldn’t see that I would be at a place where my heartbreak would give me hopeful, healing words for other people. I couldn’t see any purpose for my pain, other than destroying me.

I definitely understand turning pain into purpose now. I was drowning. At least now, I float.

Braundi