Listen

I've been thinking about listening. Not just to the people around us, but to that indefinable voice inside that seems to prepare us for things we can't know to expect. Those times when you realize, "something just told me..." or "I had a feeling...".

If you've read my recent posts, you know my mom passed away last month. The month before that, I decided at the last minute to go see her for Mother's Day. During that visit, I uncharacteristically and spontaneously decided to take a selfie of the two of us. I also remember noticing how frail she seemed and wondering how much longer she would be with us.

It turned out to be just a few more weeks.

I was so incredibly grateful I listened and paid attention to that feeling that told me it was important.

Those feelings and thoughts are there for a reason. I sometimes find it hard to tell if it's really a prompting or just my wishful thinking. But there are times that I'm left with no doubt where it's coming from, even if that understanding doesn't come until afterwards. And I often regretted the times I brushed those thoughts aside, thinking I was being silly or foolish.

I'm a religious person and I believe that "voice" is spiritual inspiration or revelation. Some people probably think of it as instinct or intuition. Maybe some people think of it as a guardian angel or as the universe sending you a message.

Whatever it is you believe - listen.

Understanding

My mom passed a way a few weeks ago. My life has turned upside down and I hate even thinking of this world without my sweet mother in it. So much emotion, so much pain, so much missing her. It's all still so very raw. But the world doesn't stop because I'm grieving.

The the day after Mom's services, I had to have a medical procedure that required me to be sedated (essentially asleep). They also gave me a sedative in pre-op that's in the same family as Ativan. On top of that, I was prescribed narcotic pain killers for after the procedure.

When I was home and basically resting, letting the meds wear off, I realized I wasn't feeling much. Not like being in shock or shutting down, where you can feel all the emotion is under the surface but aren't really touching it. It was more like the bulk of the emotion just wasn't there. It was an unexpected reprieve. I remember glancing over at those pill bottles and thinking, "I get why people get addicted to this." And soon after I thought, "no wonder drug addiction changes a person so much."

We've all been through things that cause us to feel so much that it can be overwhelming. And some people can get overwhelmed more easily or more often than others. So when it's all too much and there's this drug you can take that makes you not feel all the hard things? Wow. That is incredibly tempting.

Imagine reaching for the numbness anytime you feel something big.

Imagine doing that for months or years.

Constantly escaping those hard feelings by taking or doing something that makes you not feel. 

You wouldn't feel the pain, the happiness, the compassion, the sorrow - none of it. Not deeply enough to matter, at least. And when you're numb all the time, you might forget who you are when you do feel and you would make different choices, treat people differently.

Of course that changes a person. They could go from otherwise being "normal" and kind, to being the selfish addict whose only real focus is the next high, the next way to find the numbness.

Sadly, the addict chasing the high is often all people see. They don't see the depth of emotion and pain, the trauma, the seemingly brokenness in a person that caused them to turn to drugs or alcohol (or whatever) to begin with. Something a lot of people don't understand if they don't deal with addiction in some way - addiction is almost never about the thing you're addicted to. It's an unhealthy coping mechanism, an escape, a substitute to fill a void you don't know how else to fill. 

While this experience of mine is pretty minimal, it has given me a whole new level of understanding. I can believe that there are people who feel like they NEED that numbness in order to function. Maybe their pain or trauma is just too big and they never really recovered or learned how to deal with it.  That breaks my heart.

I didn't like that numbness - emotion makes up such a huge part of my personality and character. I prefer to feel what I feel and to be aware and in control. But the numbness I felt the other day was definitely a reprieve - one I wasn't looking or asking for, but the relief of it, in the middle of all this raw grief, was undeniable.  I can see why someone would seek it out.

I hope I can hold on to that memory and see people with addiction with more compassion and understanding than maybe I have in the past. Because broken minds and broken hearts need healing, too.

Moody

I've been in a mood lately - probably for weeks now, maybe even longer.  A constant state of frustration and irritability, and that's on top of mild depression and a growing case of social anxiety, and tack on some hefty burnout, too.  It's bad enough that people who see me regularly have noticed and expressed concern.  They aren't wrong. This negative attitude and grumpy mood is proof that I'm not mentally or emotionally in a great place.

It's been at work that this mood has been most noticeable, I think.  I'm surrounded by grown people who don't seem to be able to act like it.  People who want to get paid but don't want to earn it.  I end up feeling like I'm babysitting and cleaning up after them and that isn't supposed to be my job.  But even in my own time, I'm struggling to find the gumption to handle adulting responsibilities beyond going to work and paying bills.  

I don't think I'm a particularly selfish or self-centered person.  But my never-ending internal dialogue is usually a lot of introspection and analysis of myself, my experiences, my interactions with the people around me.  It can be hard to get out of my head, to let go of what I can't control, and focus on more productive things.  In the past, spending time with a good friend and focusing on them for a time has helped with that. Of course, those opportunities are much fewer these days. 

Today, I saw a post on Facebook from a lady who is a friend of a family member.  She posted the question, "who needs prayers this week?"  Most of the responses I saw were people asking for prayers for their family and friends, though some asked for themselves as well.

She does this about every week, so it wasn't new to me, but for some reason, today it brought tears to my eyes.  I always thought it was kind and thoughtful, but it hit me that it's so much more.  I was touched by this woman's open willingness to pray on behalf of others, many of them strangers to her. Strangers!  What a sweet, loving, and compassionate service to offer.  And it reminded me that sometimes we need to focus outward.

I've talked before about self-care and that is very important because we need the balance it brings.  But it's equally important to take time to think outside ourselves, time to focus on someone else, and find ways to be of service to our fellow human beings.  Taking time to serve one another helps us to love our neighbor and even helps us to have a clearer perspective on our own struggles.

I can readily admit that this is not easy for me and there are plenty of personal struggles to justify why that is.  But then again, doesn't that just mean I need to try harder?  Burn out and feeling that our own emotional needs aren't being met can make it feel near impossible to give part of our time and energy to someone else.  In doing so, however, we will find our own spirits lifted, our own burdens easier to carry.  And along with that, our grumpy moods will improve, too.