Pain and Beauty

"Every nerve that can thrill with pleasure can also agonize with pain." - Horace Mann

I find the truth behind that quote mind boggling.

I've had to acknowledge and accept a few hard facts of life lately. I don't like it, but I know it's necessary. I've realized that if I want to make an impact for the greater good, I have to be able to stand and face the ugliness . . . and give it a severe thrashing. I'm not quite there yet. 

I'm learning to be more self aware. If I am too emotionally charged I'm useless. Nobody wins. This is just how it is. Sometimes the emotional pain is far too much. I can't describe it, but I know that those who have felt it understand. There have been occasions that all I can do is wail while simultaneously falling into a useless slump.

I have to acknowledge the vulnerability. I have to acknowledge the anger. I have to acknowledge the pain. These are all part of me, no matter how hard I try to pretend these aren't facets of what makes me and my personality. I've pretended my whole life that these are characteristics that don't pertain to me. Sometimes people see through that facade, no matter how hard I try to present myself as an unbreakable pillar. 

Sometimes this pain is so overwhelming that it turns to numbness. We go through the motions of life because it's what is expected of us. There is no joy and it's difficult to see past the few glimpses of happiness we're given. There is nothing left but self loathing and doubt. There is nothing left but wailing if we still have that in us. There is nothing left but despair; and how we present ourselves is entirely different from what we feel. It's like we're nothing but an empty casing that covers a very shaky framework. 

Something I don't yet understand is when we are our weakest, when we are our most vulnerable, we shut the rest of the world out. I don't know why others do it, but I know that I've built a wall at times because I don't want people to see my vulnerability and I don't think my emotional baggage is something for them to deal with. I've found that some want to share the burden out of pure compassion. This is part of being human. It's difficult to ask for help because we've been conditioned from a young age with the belief that we always have to stand on our own two feet. Supporting one another shows more strength than standing alone. 

Someone I love has challenged me to let the wall down and share those emotions, because that's precisely what I've asked of him. I've laid my emotions bare and made myself vulnerable to him already. He hasn't tried to break me, yet I'm still afraid. For him, I'll try . . .  and for myself, this is a long work in progress. His presence alone has awakened emotions that I never knew existed - and I still can't describe them. I'm still left wordless, breathless and in awe. 

The events in my life that have been so ugly, so painful . . . so numbing have somehow shaped what I am today. There are things that I've seen and experienced that I sometimes think should never be shared; I should never speak of them. I acknowledge that I can only carry so much for so long. When I can't stand on my own two feet, it's time to reach out and not give in to the numbing abyss of emotional anguish. When we think we are most unloved is when we are loved the most. It took me a long time to see it, but I did eventually. I hope he sees it, too. 

On that note, this entire process has been a challenge. I've been frustrated and I have no doubt he's frustrated by me - yet neither one of us has given up on this. 'This' is something I can't quite describe. He exists, I exist, and we both exist in it. It makes sense to me, but I doubt it will to many others. The things I want to shield him from are the very same emotions he wants me to share with him. I have been forced to acknowledge more of the darker side of my personality because of him, but I don't regret it. I am grateful. I am grateful because these are characteristics of myself that I've avoided for a very long time. I knew that I'd have to face them eventually . . . . and it appears as though that time is now. Challenge accepted, Universe. 

I see him going through the same phases and emotions that I experienced not too long ago . . . although his are likely for entirely different reasons. He's sorting out the positives and negatives in his life. I remember that experience. The process was not pretty. I felt even more secluded and alone. I doubt it will be as lonely for him as it was for me, but it's still difficult. I needed time to grieve some of those losses, even though I knew that the friendships were toxic. I tell him as often as I can that I'm here. He is loved. He is cherished. I hope when he's working through some of the darkest issues that he remembers those words. I meant everything I said. I have no doubt that others are giving him similar encouragement. Beautiful Soul, I am here. Let me love you.

I've seen glimpses, Beautiful Soul. I'm not afraid. You are magnificent, even if you don't see it yet. 

Changing gears, I had yet another victory. I think 2013 is the year of Ava. Last week, I was able to sit sandwiched in between two men. I didn't panic. I didn't try to run. I didn't reach for my beating stick. In fact, it didn't effect me at all. 

Just a few days ago I was beginning to go into another wretched PTSD relapse. I managed to catch it this time and I am still in amazed. I'm stunned because I've always viewed it as a beast that controlled me and I was helpless against it. 

I felt it coming. The rumination. The obsession over things that were said and things that were left unsaid. The obsession over experiences in my life that I'd rather forget that still plague me with their presence. This form of thinking is followed by the doubt, the self loathing, the fear. It eventually feels like there's a demonic presence in my mind that tells me I'm nothing. I'll never be good enough. I'm unlovable and I am worthless. I finally recognized it. I acknowledged that part of me and told it to go away; I distracted myself to the best of my capabilities. I told myself repeatedly throughout the day that I am a radiant being of light. 

I went to tango class and randomly hugged my dancing partner. She and I shared an amazing synergy together and I thoroughly enjoyed dancing with her. She kept her eyes closed when I was leading, as I often do when someone else is leading me. I was elated when I saw her face light up because we were connecting with movement; she intuitively knew where I was going. This is another aspect of humanity. We care for one another, we feel for one another, and we connect. It's beautiful.  It took me a long time to see it, but it truly is. By the end of the day, I felt nothing but joy and the first thing I told myself when I woke up was this, "I am a radiant being of light." I believed it this time. 

I'm keeping track for the new year. Ava - 2, PTSD - 0. I am winning. I can't describe the happiness I feel in these victories because I always thought this was something that had complete control over me. I now see that I can control it with a little bit of work and constant self awareness . . . and neither of these are negative things.

These boots are made for walkin'. I have arrived. 

After cutting out the negativity from my life, I am receiving positive. I don't deny the process was excruciating. I had no one and I was still experiencing the aftermath of the last two years. I started to reach out to the world around me and eventually the good came. I lack the words to describe how beautiful the latter process of this part has been. I think I'm seeing the world as it should be for the first time. All of the pieces are coming together and it's beginning to make sense. 

Beautiful Soul, it exists for you, too. I'm here. Don't ever think you're alone.