Accepting your “weak” times
All my life, I was strong. I had to be. And aside from Ed, I walked that road alone. I was like all those old Slovak women: “Str-r-r-o-n-g like bull!” I would do what I had to. Depend on no one. Keep going.
Until life finally broke me. Hard. And then it became – What now? IS there a “now” anymore?
Later, once I got beyond those years after Ed’s near-death episode and started putting myself back together, I did what I always did – shoved them into the background. They were shameful to me. Evidence of the time when I was weak. A time when my insights and perceptions couldn’t be trusted. A time when I was needy and alone, and scared, and ashamed. A time when Ed and I were so deep in our own survival struggles, we couldn’t help each other.
But as with all the other periods of my life, if I am to write my WHOLE story, I need to finally go back there and face that bleakest of times. I need to write about being in the muck of an emotional place that I hated the most – Being “not strong.”
Now I can look at it with kindness. But it took time. And a way to give it context…and self-compassion.
A “different” kind of resume?
We all have our business resumes. The list of experiences and accomplishments we use to show others why we are qualified to do something.
But this needed another kind of resume – an emotional one. A list that chronicled the repeated hits from life. Maybe those could “justify” my falling apart.
That may sound morbid, but in a way, it is actually a comfort now. A relief. Looking back from now, this resume not only shows why my break was logical, but clears the decks for the beginnings of self-compassion, honoring, and even surprise at how much I had endured before it all took me down.
“Experience History”
- 1955 – 1983 – The Past – 28 years of sexual, emotional, physical, and mental abuse. Thousands of sexual assaults…body invasions. And…silence.
- 1984 – 1988 – Escape, suicidal, rebuilding, finding love, marriage, parenthood.
- 1988 – 2006
- Struggles of early parenthood with no support
- Our son’s educational, emotional, and identity struggles
- Marital struggles
- Major life relocation
- Job and financial stresses
- Years of fighting my father, including 4-5 major confrontations
- Family discord and alienation
- Failed friendships
- Watching Ed nearly die in front of my eyes
“Additional Experience”
- 2005 – The beloved dog dies
- 2006 – Stopped the ethics board work – Loss of my identity; Now what do I do?
- 2006 – Menopause, with anxiety, and severe exhaustion
- 2006-7 – Worsening anxiety, and a severe trauma reaction I was unaware of
- 2007 – Our son left for college out of state
- 2007 – Worsening sleep, due to sleep apnea, another thing I was unaware of
- 2007-9 – Watching my husband worsen physically, emotionally, unaware he was planning suicide methods
- 2007-8 – The mistake of “silence” about what I’d seen in the ER
- 2007-9 – More friendship problems
- 2008-9 – Crash and burn
“Unique Skills”
As to friendship issues, they were the result of so many emotional needs that went unfulfilled throughout my developmental years. And I did not understand that those things were driving a “neediness” that would be almost impossible for others to fill. People would just feel that “need” but not understand what it was about, and back away. Or I would pick friends who had their own issues and couldn’t possibly be there for me. But I thought they had my answers, and assumed the relationship failures were all mine.
If I continue with the resume metaphor, my set of “unique skills” for failed friendships included things like:
- I was insecure. So I was always seeking outside validation of my worth. I needed others to tell me I was okay, worthwhile, and lovable.
- Major trust issues. The people I should have learned trust from – my parents – failed me. So I didn’t trust when others said they valued me.
- I didn’t trust ME. I’d never been allowed my own opinions or path in life. I was always told my thoughts were wrong. So this added to my need for outside validation.
- Abandonment issues. When no one, including your parents, is there for you, why would anyone else be? I was terrified of letting people close because I figured they would leave me at some point.
- Loyalty demands. I deeply needed to know that if someone was my friend, they would stand by me through the fire, and that meant sharing my past with them. I needed to know, “If I tell you who I REALLY am, will you stay?”
- I assumed I was the broken one. If a friendship failed, it MUST be my fault because everyone else had it together. I was unaware that I sometimes picked friends who had their own issues.
- Unfulfilled developmental relationships. I was still looking for things in a friend I’d never experienced in life:
- A mother figure, to guide, teach, hear anything, and love me unconditionally, stand by and protect me
- That fun-loving Best Female Friend of adolescence
So, armed with this “incredible” array of life experiences and skills, overlaid with the psychological stress of all that happened to Ed, I slowly started to cave in.
As Jennifer Selig wrote in her book, Deep Memoir:
“A near-death experience changes you forever: you come back from the brink altered, wiser, sadder.”
A different reality
After that episode, my realizations about life included:
- Our lives had changed forever
- A visceral awareness of vulnerability
- The loss of the illusions of “invincibility” and immortality
- The terror of wondering: If he died, who would be there for me?
- AND the question always lurking beneath my strong, self-reliant persona – What happens when I am not strong anymore?
That episode was the last straw, the trigger for an unraveling that I didn’t see coming. All I knew was that Ed had always been my rock. Now I suddenly, and with much terror, realized that without Ed, I would be alone again.
That afternoon in the ER, as Ed lay dying, I wondered, Who should I call for help? Who would be there for me? That day, I learned the hard way that none of us is meant to handle everything alone. Life shoved me to my knees and drove home a reality that my way of living was no longer sustainable.
With my defensive walls rapidly crumbling, I realized I needed to fix this. To find friends, be there for them, and have them be there for me. And I would do whatever it took from then on to keep that friend.
But in the throes of those emotions, whipping like a pendulum, I would not exactly do this with groundedness or grace. More like intense desperation, with a side of erratic, frantic energy.
And there was one other element that needs to be mentioned here, which was also operating. That entire hospitalization experience broke my heart wide open.
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FYI: I am seeking financial support to complete my memoir, work with an editor, and return home for fact-checking. Your help would mean the world to me as I take this step toward healing and giving voice to my journey.
Please like, comment, and share this post to help spread the word. The link for my fundraiser is on GoFundMe. Thank you for your support.
Soul Mosaic 
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