Long Pause

I cried today.

Actually, I cried a lot; and I would be lying if I told you it was the first time.

There was something different about this time, though. It was probably one of the most painfully sobering, gut-wrenching cries I have had in a long time… and it felt so good. Almost detoxifying. I cried over all the things that have hurt me on the outside, and then I began to cry about all the things I had done to hurt myself on the inside. I gazed upon that tattered up resemblance of a vision board, I belted along with that playlist that I’ve listened to million times on repeat; but I experienced a change of heart this time as the tears rolled down my face. I knew there was a reason I held onto that collage, even when I pictured myself shredding it or throwing it in the fireplace. I knew there was a reason I kept listening to these songs, even when their words stung so deep and made my eyes burn every time I heard them. Because I needed them, I just didn’t know why yet.

---

I often use music to ‘project’ or portray my feelings when I find myself at a loss for words, or simply believe the artist said it better through their verses. (This trait truly paints a picture of how patient my fiance is – because once I find those songs, I will play them on repeat til it hurts.) Lately, it’s been the same 5 or so sappy songs and there was no foreseeable end to the monotony of my playlist. They gave me something I could sing really loud, and feel like I was saying the words I wanted so bad to say to other people but didn’t have the strength to say, or didn’t want to put myself in those situations.

What could I do before you go? The bruises you that you left behind... When you hurt under the surface... Will you hold me while you wait? Was there something I could have said? You'd keep my head from going under... Can you turn around? I wish that I was good enough... Won't you stay?

You see, I have experienced my fair share of loss over the course of my life – but the last few years have been something particularly brutal. I had to say goodbye to so much, I had so many beloved pieces of me torn away, and got to truly learn what it was like to lose all structural foundation of your life; all during my most important and fragile years of trying to shape my adulthood and future for my family. Somehow, those last two points kept my head above water. These are the fragile years. I have to stay strong for us.

Until this last year. That wasn’t loud enough to silence the closing doors anymore. That wasn’t strong enough to build on anymore. I gave up the fight of telling myself the strive was worth it. I let my losses, the changes, the broken relationships, the sheer agony take over. I wasn’t worth it, I wasn’t worth fighting for, and it wasn’t worth my struggles anymore either. I wasn’t going anywhere from this world; but I didn’t really know my meaning for being in it anymore, either. So I just existed. A blob of a person, a shadow of someone I used to know; just going through the motions of each day. Blaming others and the world for getting me to a point where I could just quit trying. Talking to a new counselor in the last weeks, I found myself saying “I haven’t felt like me in awhile… Oh, I don’t know.. Just a couple months or so…” When in reality, it’s been a year.

"So, before you go
Was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better?
If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather
So, before you go
Was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting?
It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless
So, before you go"

There is something interesting about living through an actual global pandemic to make you realize how much depression forces you into your own ‘quarantine’ without even recognizing it. Now; being locked in our homes is almost having the opposite effect on me because all of a sudden we have a whole new reality of being supported while we feel trapped at home. Trust me, I understand the weight and terrifying natural of the crisis we are currently in and will in no way down play that. I will however, try to find some bright in the cloud of darkness. Speaking as someone who has felt physically trapped in myself, my head, and any shred of safe space I can create – it is opening a whole variety of ways to find support. How to take advantage of our resources at home, how to find joy within ourselves again, how to care about each other and show the we have all have good and bad seasons, and mostly importantly – all we can control is ourselves.

What a fucking mind shift.

I am currently on Day…. 13? of the COVID-19 ‘Stay Home Order’ and I have been in pure TV binge mode the entire time. (Please don’t ask my fiance how many times I have already re-watched the entire Harry Potter series over again on the SyFy network.) Today felt different, though. Today felt motivating and like I was semi ready to stop hiding, just a little bit. Even when I received yet another string of messages threatening to pull me back into the anguish; I chanted to myself that I would not give those who are undeserving the power to occupy my mind space and I can only control me. It felt like a good day to write again so to put on some music and stayed focused on ME.

Y’all…….. I played that playlist yet again; but through the focus of ME. Subconsciously, I started to sing along again while I wrote and didn’t realize til 3 songs in, the streams of tears running down my cheeks and soaking my shirt. This time, I sang them to myself.

"Won't you stay a while? (Hold me while you wait)
I wish you'd cared a little more (hold me while you wait)
I wish you'd told me this before (hold me while you wait)
My love, my love, my love, my love
Won't you stay a while? (Hold me while you wait)

This is you, this is me, this is all we need
Is it true? My faith is shaken, but I still believe
This is you, this is me, this is all we need
So won't you stay a while?

And hold me while you wait
I wish that I was good enough (hold me while you wait)
If only I could wake you up (hold me while you wait)
My love, my love, my love, my love
Won't you stay a while? (Hold me while you wait)
I wish you'd cared a little more (hold me while you wait)
I wish you'd told me this before (hold me while you wait)
My love, my love, my love, my love
Won't you stay a while? (Hold me while you wait)"

I was frozen. Why had I been so cruel to myself? Look how hard I fought for me and yet how many times I told myself I wasn’t strong enough to fight for it at all. “If only I could wake you up.” Even being distraught about my circumstances, how could I want to throw my dreams in the fire?

That paper collage I made as a representation of my ‘vision’ for who I wanted to be, stared at me like it had so many times before. However, this time through the goggles of tears filled with self-forgiveness, it started to transform. Every picture used to feel like a tiny, piercing stab when I looked at them, for I so longed to be the person that glued them all together. That dreamed of guiding other to their potentials and laughing my way through the next twenty years of friendships and adventures; and truly believed I would get those years. The foundation of everything I thought I knew was gone, there was no way I could ever have the confidence to be that strong-willed crusader again. Then, through each tear, through each of line of “Hold Me While You Wait”, every picture, quote, or fantasy dream cut-out took the shape of a battle I had already won. Battles I already fought and survived. I overcame lies. I overcame adversity. I overcame tragedy. And I did it by my goddamn self.

It wasn’t until the end of the playlist, the sweet melody of the only song I have chosen for our upcoming wedding filled the room, that I almost felt the tension in my body leave and float away like a feather. I saw a small charm in the simplicity of a fresh start and writing our own story.

Our own story. My own story. It will look different than anything I ever imagined. Sometimes that will be painful. Sometimes that will be beautiful and inspiring, but I don’t have to be afraid or ashamed to speak my truth anymore. Whenever and wherever it may be. It’s my story; there is not any way that could be wrong – or anyone can take it away from.

It’s my story. And no matter how many long pauses it may take, it’s the story of a fucking warrior.

Exit stage left; repeating the previous statement until the end of time.