Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake
Baby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake
Shake it off, Shake it off — Taylor Swift
We all have THAT THING that still takes us out at the knees – that memory/decision/thing/death/betrayal/love that can still creep up on us and attack our everything, daggers drawn. Flanked by grief, we are forced to drop everything and attend to the gaping, dripping wound a-fucking-gain.
It can come from a dream (last night), a song, or a picture. Sometimes, we even go searching for it, thinking it will be different this time. We think the temporary immersion of joy will be worth the impact of the inevitable fall. Or maybe we just don’t have it in us, yet, to resist its pull on our hearts. Either way, when we re-connect to the memory, it’s a shock to the system that briefly stops the heart. Still.
‘Dammit. Why am I not past this, yet? This was so long ago. What more is there to do? I have done it all. I have:
–let myself feel it/cried it out
–read the books
–binge watched all the shows
–journaled like a mad man
–talked it out with the inner circle
–turned it over
–thrown shit out.
–journaled some more, this time with some lists
–let time pass, trusting it might heal all wounds
I have tried to ‘Shake it Off.’ Even so, it feels as fresh as that day. There are days when life feels irreparably damaged. The broken bone is reset and healed, but the limp remains.
The linger of the unwelcome guest becomes a source of shame. No one can know that this is still bothering me, pinning me to my bed with its weight. No one wants to hear that. And Jesus, man. Let it Go, right?
I would if I could. This is wasting valuable time. I have a plan for my life! I have things to do! I would rather not be in this place, again. Tick tock. Believe me, I don’t want to have to close shop again while I scrape the pieces of mind off the clouds and the moon, and piece them back together.
But I thought I was better! I was doing so well….
If there is one good thing that comes out of such earthquakes, it is in the seeking for new machinery with which to rebuild. Every time I have been taken out by an army of pain, my faith has been flatlined. Every collapse of structure in my life has brought new vigor to my search for The Meaning of Life. Grief suffocates false idols. But before that can happen, there is always a period of time where I drift, untethered from a broken inner compass.
So sure, Ms. Swift, ‘Shake it Off’ is great advice. Just know, it can take years…
That’s my piece, and that’s my peace. Thank you for taking the time to read my silly words. It means the world. Carry on…
Old Single Mom
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