I Haven't Been Completely Honest With You: Empty Promises, Endings, and Unavoidable Feelings
There are things I want to say. Things I have been meaning to say. Things that feel so big that I open my mouth to say them and all that comes out is, "yeah, I'm doing ok."
Truth is, things feel as far from ok as they possibly could. As I say this I cringe, knowing that I just took one of the most incredible trips with a dear friend and am about to begin another on behalf of More Than Lyme. What room is there to feel anything other than gratefulness for the opportunities I find myself standing in the wake and on the brink of?
Today I told Adam that I felt like a bowl of empty promises. Empty promises followed by one apology after another, in which he reminded me of what this community is built off of: honesty.
And though these things, these projects and ideas, have every intention of being part of this bigger picture, I would be continuing to do this community a disservice by not saying. By not saying so that I don't have to say how I'm actually feeling. I keep going back to the timing. To the plan. To the way things were before A, B, and C took place. To the "but I have this time and I'm doing all these things and it's Lyme Disease awareness month so I should be talking about blank..."
Writing has felt like an impossible task; every word is laced with an emotion unrelated to what I find myself talking about, or rather, trying to say. There is a reason for this. A reason that feels to big to think let alone speak. So I run. I fill space and I move from one moment to the next without thinking too much about this or that. I'm not listening to music: too much emotion. No podcasts for this one: Inspiration terrifies me. Movies and shows other than romantic comedies and supergirl? They have me thinking too much, I'll pass.
When I go to write, everything comes to the surface; the past two months have been something of a dream, having had the first ever More Than Lyme Event, coming face to face with a loss so big it will surely take a lifetime to digest, to traveling across the world with a dear friend of mine. How do I write about one thing and not the other? How do I take all these plans and pending projects and not toss them into the mixing pot of emotions that seem to be hauled around with me everywhere I go?
I want to say it all or nothing at all. I want to have everything make sense or remain in the dark. I push fear away by numbing and suppressing that any moment to myself is soaked in tears and anger. Yes, I'm angry. Angry that I don't have a plan. That things are far from figured out. That no matter how I wish I were feeling one way, I can't help but feel nearly every other emotion. I'm saying cruel things to my body, even though I'm more aware than ever of the harm that it's doing to my mind. To my present and future self.
I'm starving myself of creativity because I'm afraid of what comes after.
I want to fix. To write more stories and live through more adventures. I want to finish the event gallery and post, share, share, write, learn, cry, cry heavy tears and to not then feel that I've wasted precious time. Time that could be spent doing this that and the other thing. This was not suppose to happen. I was suppose to stay strong; to process; to write. I was doing that, right? So what happened? Why can't I find my footing? My gosh, it's too dark to even see the footholds!
I'm rambling now, but maybe that's how it's suppose to be. Comfortable was never part of this story, so why did I carve out so much room for it, placing it on the highest of pedestals? I was convinced I could do it all, and do it all right now, but how can I when I don't know where it ends or begins? And what good does it do to be so fixated on forward momentum, when I've never been so far from knowing how to just be.
You can't say or feel it all, Chloe. You just can't.
Start with this. Be ok with the lack of structure. The short choppy sentences. The way things end just as quickly as they start.
So go ahead, start with the death of Bob, your grandpa, and the unavoidable way in which this makes you feel...