About a week
and a half ago, I walked into my house on Sunday morning to find my college
roommate, her wife, daughter, and mother sitting at my kitchen counter. It was
the most shocking thing to open the door and see them in a setting in which I
am not used to seeing them. I believe my exact reaction was, “HOLY SHIT!” (Sometimes
I’m not great at censoring myself in front of my kids. #parentingfail)
As I
attempted to take in the fact that, yes, you are in my kitchen, and no, I am
not dreaming, I finally asked, “What are you doing here?” Her response was,
“Once you told us what was going on with your mom, we knew we had to come out
as soon as our schedules allowed. So. We’re here.”
As you know,
Glennon Doyle Melton is one of my favorite writers/people, and she says this a
lot: Just Show Up. And while it can mean a bunch of different things in many
different situations, it is what Amber (and Karen and Devyn and Sue!) did for
me. She just showed up.
A lot of
beautiful souls have sent emails, texts, Facebook messages, and comments on the
blog sending their love and prayers to me and my family as we trudge through
this next chapter of our lives. Many are people who I don’t know well enough
that they would fly 1,500 miles just to boost my spirits for less than three
days, so the words are enough and I am so grateful for them. But there was
something that passed in the hugs, lingered in the laughs, endured in the
stories recounted for the millionth time that fully lifted me out of my
depression.
It is OK to
feel happiness even when part of you is sad.
I've been
violently ill since Monday. It kind of amazes me how the human body can just
reject everything and get it all out by any and all means possible. I’m
fascinated by the human body in general. I often wonder why I didn't follow
that interest and go into the field of biology. But I digress…
Because I
have been so sick and on my own for the better part of two days, I've done a
lot of thinking. Thinking about the difficulties that have come to pass
recently. The heartaches. The binge sessions. The upset stomach that inevitably
follows. The kind of person I have and haven’t been. The (now) 20 pounds I have
gained.
And then Tuesday
morning, I read this:
"The
problem, often not discovered until late in life, is that when you look for
things in life like love, meaning, motivation...it implies they are sitting
behind a tree or under a rock. The most successful people in life recognize
that they create their own love; they manufacture their own meaning; they
generate their own motivation. For me, I am driven by two main philosophies:
Know more today about the world than I knew yesterday. And lessen the suffering
of others. You’d be surprised how far that gets you." ~Neil deGrasse Tyson
Sitting
around and waiting for things to happen to me has never worked out. Create,
manufacture, generate…these are the actions that bring about results. My mental
and emotional health is at as much risk as my physical, and unless I choose to do something different, I will
continue on this unsatisfying path where I ignore the people who love me, feel
near-constant anxiety over what has not yet come to pass, not to mention that
none of my pants fit. (Praise the gods for leggings and baggy sweaters!)
I think my
body has sent me a message these last few days. “You’re getting cleaned out
because the way you are treating me is ridiculous. I deserve better.” And even
though it’s not the way I would have chosen to have done it, I am 10 pounds
lighter today than I was Monday morning. I feel actual hunger for the first
time in weeks. My heart and frame aren't so heavy. I hear my mind, body, and
soul talking to me and, more importantly, I am listening.
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