Who do you THINK you are?
My mother, after an epic light switch disagreement, asked in all sincerity how I got this way.
me: “What way Mom?”
mom : “You walk around here and know it all and tell people what to do. You want it the way YOU want it…I didn’t raise you that way. We raised you better than that.”
I now understand the pinched nerve in my neck, and for the most part my first marriage.
It doesn’t do any good to explain that this is my house not hers, so I know where things are or that Christmas trees are lit in celebration. To her they are simply some unnecessary consumption. But in brief moments, she sees joy in the light.
If we all could have brief moments in the light. Today I caved and finally got a massage. I have a pinched nerve in my neck that is so blindingly painful I wonder why I fight with her about the lights, I can’t see anyway. When Morgan, my new favorite man, put his hands on my shoulders he said, “You know it’s ok to cry, you are safe.” I, however, went into an internal monologue about how much weight I felt I had gained as he kneaded the flesh on my worn, ragged, knotted body. I worried that my face was fat or that I didn’t any longer look like the me I expected of myself. I went down a list of personal cruelty that I should ask forgiveness for. I did, however, realize through the narrative and the pain that he had the most compassionate hands. I realized that I have not been touched compassionately in a very long time.
This past year I worked some long very stressful hours and had Pnemonia from April to September. What people didn't know, was I was being pumped up in urgent care to survive the load, which often actually put me back in bed, or urgent care, because the overload of meds was too much. Now Mom Is here wondering how I got so outspoken about my wants and needs. I have slept 4 hours a night with one eye open for the last 4 weeks, made more cups of tea, cleaned up more pee, done more research, more legal paper work, grocery shopped, cooked complete meals for someone who doesn’t register they’ve eaten, baked, gotten, or rather stayed up, early to get things done, cancelled most social outings, explained everything times infinity, becoming, without 9 months of emotional gestational preparation, a mother once again and taken more deep breaths so my patience beats my temper out my mouth and ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT is the vague possibility that my face is swollen and that I have betrayed my physical desire for perfection, making me feel small. I, while Morgan works tirelessly to release the pain, make disciplinary lists of things I will require of myself in this time; more smoothies, no alcohol, early mornings on the rowing machine…….. I realized in this moment that the least compassionate person to me….is me.
Mom is right, who do I think I am? I am requiring so much of a body that is doing everything to stay upright and keep up. I have not thanked that body for the effort. I just keep asking more, just keep needing it to meet my expectations. Morgan hits a knot that takes the air out of my lungs and brings me back from the corner I have put myself in. He reminds me to breathe. Then in clarity he asks
“What happens if this pain doesn’t go away?…would that be ok?
“No, no it would not”
I have been so blind struggling through the day that I never saw the enemy within. I just kept trying to meet internal and external expectations until I could no longer move. It would not be ok. I would not be ok. So I am sorry. It feels a hollow apology to offer myself for all the damage I myself have caused. I think I will put some of this down now, and immediately, the worn emotional luggage tumbles from my arms, and tears finally begin to fall.
I can see the light again.