The Wall of Sadness

I should have known it was coming. It truly was only a matter of time. I finally hit the wall.

That’s what usually happens when you run fast enough from something and keep looking behind you to make sure it hasn’t gotten you yet.

All was fine…not great, but fine. We were moved to the temporary apartment, the kids were settled in, the desert was a new adventure, the husband was gone more than expected but the pool was close and we had cable, house-hunting for a more permanent place to live was on-schedule. There were lots of balls in the air, but I had it covered. Or at least that is what I kept telling myself.

Then, almost suddenly, I found myself on the verge of tears.

I stayed that way for a while and then just as suddenly, it was no longer the verge. I was full-fledged into the ugly cry…the no-one-can-understand-what-you-are-saying, dolphins are called forth and dogs cover their ears, scene from When Harry Met Sally, ugly cry. I hit the wall and the large monster behind me caught up and screamed in my ear:

“This is NOT the way it was supposed to be! All of this is hard! And you are, in fact, quite miserable, Sweetheart! DEAL WITH IT NOW!”

Well then. There you have it. And you know what, I did deal with it. I faced my true feelings and it was not nearly as awful as I might have thought. I embraced my sadness. I dove down into it and swam around for a while.  I wasn’t angry…angry would have been easier.

But I was, and I am, sad.

I don’t like parenting alone. I don’t want to look at places to live where my husband won’t live with us. I don’t enjoy the burden of making weighty decisions without someone to talk them through with.  As a matter of fact, I don’t like driving cross country the last week that Oprah will ever be on and missing the final 3 episodes!

As it turns out, whether what I don’t like is big or little, I have a right to not like it.

If it makes me sad, well, that’s just how I feel and that’s okay. Shoving my feelings down just because I think others have far greater issues does not benefit anyone…not me, not my kids, not my husband and certainly not the poor customer service rep helping me set up utilities once again.

If I am not honest with myself about what I am feeling moment to moment, even the unpleasant stuff, then I am missing the opportunity for genuine pleasure and genuine connection to others.

And there is something very sweet in recognizing your own sadness.

The sadness reminds me of how much I love my husband, of how much I love the life we have created together, of how lucky we are to have healthy children and parents who love us and a roof (well, several roofs of late) over our heads.

The sadness is mine. I own it. I don’t dwell in it or get caught up in my story about it. But I acknowledge it, and I feel it, and I give it the respect it deserves. I built a life that provides me a reason to be sad when I am not fully in it.

And, that, my friends, is something that truly should be experienced…and, as it turns out, it is far less painful that hitting an actual wall.