Validity: Agreeing that Monsters Exist

[I'm supposed to be working. Don't worry, Tim, I will be working soon. I just have had a rough morning and need to dig through some thoughts. And no, I'm not on the clock.]

I am at my limit for life. I have reached meltdown state. I could, at this instant, go upstairs into my bed and sob until my body aches, and then sob some more, until I am physically and emotionally exhausted, at which time, I would fall asleep for the rest of the day. That is where I am.

And as twisted as it sounds, that is what I want. I want to cry until I cannot function anymore. I want to let all my fears and tears out. I want to feel pain and to have the flood of emotions come and rush through me in hopes that they go away. But they don't go away. I would wake up and they would still be there. Maybe a little less than before, but they would be there nevertheless.

So what good would it do?

I have opened the doors to this pain, with hopes that for once and for all, they will be dealt with. By reintroducing counseling to my life and by being real, I have invited the meltdown status. I have opened up all the luggage and baggage that I have shoved in corners and closets and buried deep in the basements of my life. And I have unzipped them. And I have dumped them out on the floor, leaving me with a huge, decaying, stinky, disguisting pile of skeletons and lies and trash talk.

I now have to dig through that mound of filth and betrayal and hurt, the addictions here and the trust issues there. I need to sort through this stuff and deal with them, one. piece. at. a. time.

And, that will take time.

Because every decomposing suvenior of my past needs to be handled and put where it belongs. Otherwise, it's just shifting the mess and not cleaning. Some things need to be cleaned off and put away. Some things need thrown in the trash. Some need to be burned. Some just need chucked out at the curb so someone else can have them. That is how I clean my house and that is how I need to clean my life.

This last week, I haven't done much of anything other than sit here, across the room from the pile of retching memories. Occassionally, I would look at something and think about it, but I never dared to pull it from the pile and put it where it needs to go. I just looked and the enormous mound of damage seemed to be an impossible task. How in the world am I able to take on the mess? I don't have the time nor the energy to clean it up. I don't have the strength. I don't have the support.

So, I kept trying to ignore it. Or take the broom and push it all into the corner to deal with it later. But I can no longer ignore the stentch.

Yesterday, I had therapy. We talked a lot about boundaries. I came home. When we had the chance, I tried to talk to Jose about my thoughts and what went on at therapy. He got upset and hurt by me. It made me feel guilty, so I stopped. And, I added that wound to the pile of baggage.

I came home and after putting the kids to bed, got news from a friend. It wasn't good news. So, I sat in the chair and tried to figure out the boundaries thing. How do I not allow this to upset me? I practiced what the therapist told me to do. It seemed to work a little bit, and I got this small brick wall built...like maybe three bricks tall. But the situation continued on and I couldn't build my wall fast enough.

So, I messaged a friend whom I admire and trust. She understands real life difficulties, and not just the small things. She gets the big ones. The damaging, threaten to take you under and drown you things. I consider her a friend and a mentor. And she explained how she does boundaries. We talked for a bit, then we ended the conversation, so I went to lie on the floor with Jose where he was watching television.

After the show was over, I tried to talk to him. But he was either not paying attention or intentionally not wanting to address it with me. He acts like I'm just being dramatic. He brushes me and my feelings off. So, a well-intended discussion went horribly wrong and he ended up just going to bed. I was hurt. And off goes another piece of junk onto the pile.

I was frustrated. I was aching. And this pile continued to grow the more that I tried to work on figuring out a way to fix it. I was ready to give up. I was ready to just let the decaying mound of hurt and pain and betrayals grow until it covered me and suffocated me. So, in a last attempt to cry out, I emailed my friend that I had been messaging earlier. I shared with her my fear of boundaries, that by setting boundaries and trying to fix myself, I am afraid that I will lose everyone that I hold dear, including my husband. I sent the email, afterwards regretting it in fear that I had reach out too desparately, and went to bed.

Laying in bed, I tried to go to sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me. And I wondered if I was just too damaged. I began to think of why certain situations hurt me more than they should and ended up crying because my conclusion was too much for me to bear. Eventually, I fell asleep.

After a trying morning with my kids, I sat down to start working, and saw that my email had been responded to. The first line read, "I don't know Carla. I don't have the answers to those questions, but they are very valid and very real."

Those meager words, that she probably didn't even think about as she typed them, meant the world to me. They opened my heart and by simply validating my feelings, my questions, and my fears, she gave me the strength that can empower me to take the pile and begin to sort through the mess. Because, now, I no longer have to see the mound of hurt and wonder if it is really there, but I know that it's there and I can begin to figure out how to remove it.

I attended a conference about a month ago and one of the speakers spoke about dealing with kids. She said that if a child is crying because of the monsters in the closet, telling them that there are no monsters does nothing to stiffle that fear. By telling them that monsters do not exist, you are brushing off their fear as invalid and unimportant. Because whether monsters exist or not, to that child who is afraid, they are very real and very scary. She said, instead, to validate the child's feelings. By saying that monsters are scary. You have given that child the support to move forward and figure out a way to then eliminate or diminish that fear.

We used to sit with Isa at night, when she was going through a phase with bad nightmares, and before bed, we would pick out all the bad dreams from her mind and throw them out the window. It was silly, but in all honesty, after a week or so of that, her bad dreams went away (with only the occassional one now) and we no longer had to throw them out the window.

By telling me that my feelings are valid, my friend has moved me from that place of fear and being overwhelmed to a place where I am ready to figure out a way to diminish the mountain of hurt and pain that is dumped out. Maybe, I'll even throw one or two memories out the window.