Last week, I had a meltdown that felt as if fear had punched its way through my host of inner strengths, shattering them, so that only shards, which pierced my mind, body and spirit, were left. What had scared me so pointedly? Fear of whatever the surgical team in Houston has to say, face to face—you are a candidate for this surgery, which proves so rare that most people in need of our experienced expertise fly here—you’ll have your second round of intense chemo here, where no one knows you—you are not a candidate for surgery, so go home, continue with chemo, swallow pain meds and hope for the best. No matter how I looked at my choices, pain, intensifying, both emotionally and physically, seemed to await my arrival in Houston.
Will and David held me and truly helped me make my way, walker in hand, through the worst of the briar patch as deeper truth, thrusting its way through my wall of denial, flooded the conscious portion of my mind with repressed anger as well as fear, both of which felt so profoundly compressed together that not so much as an inkling of courage surfaced to brighten the path that loomed so dark, directly ahead, until, suddenly, I heard myself say, I need to scream. And scream I did. After which, my mind’s state of alarm rebalanced as if a reset button had been pushed, highlighting the fact that this is not just my crises—it’s my family’s crises as much theirs as mine—and my sweetheart, Irwin, who takes care of me as if I am the most precious jewel on earth, is in need of as much emotional support as is true of me as phase two of our trek toward my regaining good health moves forward, day by day—a good day being one that is without pain. Again, with my reset button in good working order it’s clearly my good fortune to feel my vulnerabilities encircled with love—no darkly focused criticism undermining my need to quietly continue to restrengthen my connection to courage.
Upon hearing of my meltdown (my much needed meltdown, which opened my eyes to the truth of my tightly suppressed fear and repressed anger) Angie said she’s coming with us to provide moral support, drawing my awareness toward gratitude concerning how many loved ones are here to catch us in a safety net whenever courage crashes head on into fury and fear, which remain secreted from my awareness until one or the other or both geyser out, and because our loved ones’ take turns stepping up to the plate, our inner strengths may feel need to crash, but they do not burn.
As my attitude brightened, so did my day, and by the time Steven arrived for dinner with Ravi, Gramma’s head was screwed on straight and ready to play—gingerly, very gingerly. Thank goodness, Ravi agrees that Daddy and Uncle David fit the bill for every fun thing Gramma can’t do—as of yet.
Had I penned a detailed account of side effects experienced following five straight days of chemo, my last missile would have been far too graphic for public consumption. Though most of my emails and texts see courage and diplomacy directing my pen, vulnerability (which some days is as bald as my head) felt need to express itself, openly, today.
Hopefully, you’ll hold on to the fact that I do not lose sight of the consistency of my family’s love as well as treasured friendships, all of which encourage me to tunnel through the darkness toward the bright side of my life whenever my ride through hell feels so painful that I feel need to pour my heart out to you. Also, this honest expression of emotion was penned last night in answer to a text, received from a dear, life long friend, but I chose not to send it till the sun arose in hopes of not disturbing any sweet dreams that may have been hers to enjoy before awakening to face whatever reality is hers to bear, today, and with my friend’s permission, this heartfelt outpouring is about to be sent into cyberspace expressly for this reason—no matter how often we must rely upon our inner strengths, especially as we age, both sides of human nature exist within us all, and if that reality is repressed, overlong, then vulnerabilities that we fail to acknowledge as our own will geyser out, now and then, just like a can of tightly coiled worms, which has blown its lid, shocking our self-deceiving self image to its core, and thus is it healthier by far to muster the courage to humbly acknowledge oneself as being wholly human than it is to continue to mislead our intellect into believing that the persona we’ve been taught to wear in public is who we are, through and through, and here’s why today’s train of intuitive thought is undeniably true—if you do not become intimately acquainted with both sides of your nature as you age then, one day, your mirror image will have reason to shatter, leaving you utterly shocked to come face to face with the stranger whom you’ve become, who has fooled no one so much as yourself for this reason—the only constant in life is change, suggesting that we all change for better and worse, and becoming aware of need to relate personally to that deeper truth is necessary if thee is ever to feel so completely human as to gain access to inner peace expressly during times of crises while others are trying desperately to believe their personas can hold it together though deeper truth is shining the spotlight of insight directly upon the fact that once the lid has blown off their can of tightly coiled worms, which had remained deeply suppressed in hopes of hiding less desirable traits from oneself, then those unacknowledged traits, having been left untrained, remain childish in nature, and though your defense system has blindly attributed those negatively focused traits to others, in truth, they’ve been mine and yours, all along. And with that insight, concerning the universality of projecting one’s own vulnerabilities upon others, clearly stated, I hope you’ll choose to sleep on today’s train of intuitive thought so as to see if, upon awakening, tomorrow, your mirror image begins to feel naturally less painfully, more peaceably expansive than had ever been possible when your intellect had had no clue as to when or how often your defense system had usurped control over your intelligence, blinding your think tank from recognizing how often subconscious fear has been been freed to run the show ...
🌻Annie
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