The stress, hurt, and fear piles on creating a jagged mountain of distress. Then, all it takes is a feather landing on top or a whisper of breath for it all to come tumbling down. The taste of blood in the back of my throat, a raging migraine, and my heart beating out of my chest – the consequences of holding it all in for so long. Afterward, there is clarity and motivation to carry on.
How can you sleep at night? We hardly sleep at all, yet I suspect you sleep just fine. Afterall, you never did anything wrong, and these memories we all fight so hard to resolve are an elaborate fabrication. What a lovely, fantasy world you in which you dwell. Beware, for it will all crumble down eventually and when it does, we will be stronger than ever. Relish your memories of when you had complete power and control over us because those times are extinct!
So many things are passed on to our children including some of our most significant struggles. What a joy it is to see the positive aspects of family traits reflected in our children and what a devastating reality it is to see them struggle with pain. My youngest daughter has migraines. She got them from me. My mom and my maternal grandmother both had migraines, and I suspect this genetic condition goes back many generations more than any of us know.
Today, after missing yet another day of school, my sweet daughter is in bed with her head on an ice pack and her room as dark as can be in the middle of the day. I know exactly how she feels yet I am powerless to end her pain. It was just after she was born that my migraines became chronic and ultimately, intractable. She knows what her future could hold and it both scares her and makes her sad. Another journey is at hand because we must find a way to control/prevent her migraines before they take over her life. “I’m so sorry little one. It is part of who we are, but I won’t let it overtake you.”
One “black day” is manageable, most of the time. Many of them crammed on top of each other can feel insurmountable. These “black days” have been plentiful recently, and respite is nowhere in sight. Instead of feeling desperation and defeat there is numbness. Even anger is unable to be roused leaving a sense of complacency and acceptance. There is still hope for the seed of happiness to sprout and grow, but for now, it is firmly buried under the weight of too many “black days.”
Imagine if we could see the emotional pain and scars represented on the skin of those around us. Festering, oozing, open sores on the skin of those still trapped in their pain and black and blue bruises covering the bodies of those beginning to heal. What about those with scars? Some may hide the scars, embarrassed by their pain and past struggle even though they had to be so very strong just to survive. Those with scars that show, uncovered in the sun, for all to see may be the strongest of all. These are the scars of people who were strong enough to survive, heal, and continue living despite their past. How different would we relate to people if we could see their internal pain? How different would we present ourselves if our past was visible on our skin?