Enough. I have been hurting. That is okay. I’ve been taking on the emotions from other people’s decisions. That is not okay. I’ve been angry. That’s okay. I’ve been isolating. That is not okay. And how dare no one see through my forced optimism and shaky gratitude into the aching pain and fear that sits right beneath. How dare no one push through my thin claim that I’m hanging in there and see that my walls are crashing around me. How DARE he?! How DARE they?! How DARE…I.
Enough. Because the truth is I am in a storm right now. Raging and crying and railing on the inside and I don’t like people to see me this way; this uncertain and vulnerable. I don’t like this feeling of not knowing the true from the false. Not having any answers. My most unbendable anchors from within have been shaken and my heart, which fuels every part of my life has been broken and yet the world keeps spinning. Business as usual. And here I am searching for myself among the wreckage. Who is this woman in the mirror with haunted eyes and an inability to smile? Who is this woman who once swore she would never again allow such pain into her heart? Who is this woman who just doesn’t want to care about anything anymore. This can’t be me. I will not allow this to be me.
Enough. I let myself be on autopilot for a little while. Wash your face. Brush your teeth. Go to a meeting. Go to work. Wash. rinse. Repeat. The world feels grey. That doesn’t matter. I feel weighted down. That doesn’t matter either. It will pass and the future can bring what it will. For the moment, I force myself to stay in the present.
Enough. I am a writer. I am an artist. I am a caregiver. I am an advocate. I am a woman in recovery and I am a survivor. My life has been threaded with magic and whimsy, even if I can’t exactly feel it right now. I am capable of great love, humor and passion, even if I feel consumed by it at times. I am a worthy human being. Nothing can rob me of that. I am bigger than my problems. I am more than the sum total of my character defects and laying this all out there to the world for anyone else who may be struggling reminds me that I can be brave. It is the best way I know to rebel against despair. Because to hell with you, defeatism. To hell with you, self pity. You can’t have me. Not today.
Corey Anne Rotella co-authored the book CNA Edge: Reflections from year one along with Bob Goddard and Hannah Hedges. It’s collection of essays from their blog CNA Edge: A Voice from the trenches of Long Term Care