Sometimes, life is unbelievably overwhelming. Sometimes, it knocks you down and tries to drag you through the muck and nastiness, when life does this, I assume, it is only trying to scrape away any hope one may have. There will always be loss in one’s life, but sometimes the loss is so great that breathing becomes hard… eyes swell from tears, and hearts feel as if they may never regain an actual heart form again, due to the shattering. My best friend and I often ask one another how many times a heart can break, not being strangers to loss, we have concluded that a heart can break at least a million times… at least.
One thing I have tried to combat the shattering with is looking at a situation and then trying to imagine how I will (probably) feel about it in six months. People (also known as “they” and “them”) always say to not “wish your life away” … but when you are dealing with wreckage I truly believe life should offer a fast forward button. Of course, if life did offer such a service so many lessons would be missed; such as how many times one can have a mental breakdown in a single day. One might also not learn how therapeutic sleep can become, that frozen peas make eye swelling go down, and that one cannot actually die from lying perfectly still in the shattering.
Sometimes, when bad happens it is so devastating that it is hard, if not impossible, to care about anything else. As if the body and the mind shuts down so that one’s soul does not get overwhelmed with the cruelty of the world. Still, even in shut down mode, the shattering makes it impossible to move forward, to figure out one’s next step, to even make some sort of plan to begin. It is hard to be hopeful when the shattering has a hold on you, hard to do anything, hard to breathe, hard to function in any sort of “normalcy”. You can try and ignore the shattering, but it is always there, in the back of your mind, a constant reminder that your shit is fucked up and you may not actual survive it this time around.
When the shattering has a hold of you lies sound like truths, things that normally would make one laugh with joy bring tears or boredom, and the devastation is the only thing that feels real and tangible. The body aches, the soul weeps, and your brain does not feel as if it is any part of your own body. The fucking shattering, it feels like a head cold, flu, and spiritual meltdown all rolled into one. Sleep either does not come, is sporadic when it does, or consumes most of your day.
When one is consumed by the shattering a kind word, a nice gesture, even a smile can make one turn into a zombie-shell of a person, or a crying, lying on the floor, tantrum throwing toddler. On the other hand any criticism, back lash, or mean glare can turn a person with the shattering into a chainsaw wielding maniac or a unhinged furniture throwing psychopath. The shattering makes you unstable, it makes you crave sweet affection, but reject it at the same time. It does not make any sense, it physically hurts, and it makes one feel as if every weakness and vulnerability is raw and open for the world to scrutinize. You feel as if you have a sign hanging around your neck that screams, “I AM BROKEN”, or that maybe you should at least, make such a sign, as fair warning to any person, animal, or furniture that may be near you.
As far as I can tell, the only way to actually deal with the shattering is on its terms. To learn its name, to call it what it is, and to do your absolute best to acknowledge that emotions will not actually kill you, that they are just waves of energy that they will change like the weather (but then again the weather in the Midwest changes every half hour). Sometimes, life knocks you down, and sometimes it knocks you out… and sometimes all you can do is let it. Feel as much as you possibly can with the hope that if you do, you will NEVER have to feel so fucking shattered again.
At least that is MY plan for the day. If only for today.