Despite years of working on “rewiring my attic” in order
to evolve past old thought patterns, it still sneaks in with a whisper that
reawakens an avalanche of shuddering fears. The only words I can find to
accurately articulate it is “quiet desperation”. It ripples through my entire
being with old feelings of emptiness and futility. It usually creeps in late at night. I’m sad that it’s still able
to haunt me, even though most of my conscious thoughts nowadays focus on
gratitude and contentment. I try to keep my mind busy so that it cannot take
root, but perhaps I need to acknowledge its existence because it’s a reminder
that there’s still work to be done. Maybe instead of allowing it to surprise me
like that, I need to fling hope and truth into it the moment it begins its
onslaught.
I’ve
long felt healed beyond “desperation”. There was a time when quiet desperation WAS my
constant companion through seemingly endless dark nights of the soul and long
stretches of incapacitation. But it’s not my truth anymore. So where do those
whispers echo from?
I
know there is still a lingering aching in my being over the loss of my
family…Dad, Mom, my brother Gary, a long list of aunts, uncles, cousins, friends and
beloved in-laws. Individually they’ve each left huge holes in my heart, but
collectively their passings and absences have pulled so many rugs out from under
my feet that I often don’t feel like there’s any stable ground left to stand on.
It’s not true, but it’s how I feel. And I have to quickly (desperately?) throw
truths into those feelings to calm the panic that threatens to suffocate me with
an overwhelming sense of aloneness and emptiness.
But
the truth is that my life now is rich and overflowing with more than I could
ever have imagined possible in those darker chapters of my journey. And yet,
this feeling of utter emptiness continues to undermine the joy and contentment
that I yearn for. I’ve worked hard over the years to turn my focus away from
“what’s not and never will be again” to “what IS here and now”. And I’ve come a
long way. But clearly not far enough to have eradicated those remnant shudders of quiet
desperation.
They
creep in without warning, cringing through my mind with their fears and sorrows.
I stay busy, and that helps. But the best way I know to deal with them now is to
pray, and to turn my whole being to the Light and Love of God, family, friends
and even the healed self who deep inside trusts that all is well. I do believe
that those whispers of quiet desperation will, in time, be healed into whispers
of quiet joy and contentment.
I know how hard it is to quiet those negative voices. They tend to creep in when I'm tired, or just out of sorts for whatever reason. And it's so easy to berate myself when I spend time on mindless pursuits instead of focusing on my writing, whether it's my fiction or my blog. Being down on myself, for any reason, allows those negativities to creep back in. They are so insidious, aren't they?
ReplyDeleteVery insidious, Ruth. I have noticed that these feelings (fears?) tend to creep up more when I'm playing on the computer - which I do to de-stress and to keep my brain active. My days are mostly balanced enough to allow time for play, yet it's clear that it's a vulnerable time for me. If I'm diligent enough, I can catch the negative name-calling and stop it. But sometimes it simmers just below consciousness and I don't catch it quickly enough. Perhaps writing about it here will be a catalyst.
ReplyDeleteThanks for "listening", Ruth!