Surrendering To The Heavy

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I have "days".  I have that "mood".  I enter into the "heavy". And I hate it.  There is no control, no stopping the waves of sadness, hopelessness, and alone that come over me.  I know there are some of you out there who know what I mean.  Nothing makes sense, all my efforts seem a waste, there's no progress to be found in my hard work.  I feel inadequate as an artist, a mother, a partner, a daughter, a sister.  I feel inadequate in every single aspect of Me.

Generally when the "Heavy" comes, I fight it with everything I've got.  I journal, I push myself to do the laundry and clean the house, I make myself paint anyway, I tell myself it will pass, I counter every negative thought that goes through my head with something positive.  This time the "Heavy" held too much weight for that.  I couldn't fight it.  It was stronger than I was.  There was nothing for me to do but surrender to it.  That's a bad day.  That's a bad three days this time.  I opened up the gates and let the "Heavy" have me.  My kids avoided me, Darren avoided me, I cut conversations with my sister and my mother short.  I hid myself in my basement studio/family room for three days, only surfacing when I had too.  It was bad this time.

The first day and a half I raged.  Angry at everything and everyone, mostly at myself.  Bitter, red hot, rage tore through  me.  I let it be.  I let myself be angry.  It burned itself out only to make room for the empty dark hole of despair.  I let the despair have me.  I cried.  I hurt.  I told myself I was giving up.  I had a long conversation screaming fit with God that I was done.  I couldn't do it anymore.  What had I been working so hard for anyway?  It was all going nowhere.  I would take care of my responsibilities and beyond that, I would just be.  And then, there was just empty.  I sat with the empty.  I didn't answer Darren's calls.  I showered only because it is part of my routine.  I went back to the basement, laid on the couch and zoned out on the TV.  I NEVER watch TV during the day. Monday I did.  Then it's time to pick up the kids from school and head to bowling.  And there it was, my 7 year old with a big smile on her face to see mommy.  Then my 11 year old, full of chatty conversation about her day.  And the empty started filling back up.  Bowling, lots of kids and busy conversation.  My step-son comes home with us.  He is excited for Christmas, sharing his Christmas list with me.  And I'm smiling.  Off to pick up my 13 year old from wrestling practice.  He's tired and hungry.  And the empty is still filling up.  I'm only 3/4 empty now.  I stop to pick up a pizza.  A good friend is working.  She's smiling...I'm smiling...empty is filling up.  I roll through the back door, Darren's already home and meets me in the kitchen with "Hi Baby Doll" and a hug.  And I'm full again.  Full of love.  The "Heavy" is gone.

Later that night, I have my favorite arms around me, and he says to me, "Well at least it didn't come to pack your stuff and get out this time.  We're making progress."   And I think to myself that yes, we AND I are making progress.

LESSON LEARNED:  You gotta let all the crap out to make room for the good.  There ARE going to be bad days and frustrations.  I have to acknowledge and let go of all the negative that holds me back, not shove it down and ignore it.  And no matter how many times I want to give up, I won't.  Because I know not how too.  Because after all the anger and sadness is gone, I still love.  And it is that love that is who I am, and that love that keeps me moving forward.  Love for all the people in my life, love for art, love for me, love for everything.  THAT is who I am.  I know this because when I'm empty, that love is what comes first and what fills the void.  I am whole and complete and enough, with love.