Slap on a coat of paint…or start over?
We used to watch a show called “This Old House” on PBS. They’d start with a structure that had been functioning well for decades and looked like it was in decent enough shape. They figured they would just need to do some alterations here and there, and the house would have that fresh, updated look they wanted.
Yet, most of the time, they pull one part of the wall or cabinet apart and discover more damage than expected. Sometimes there would be so much it threatened the integrity of the structure itself. So their choice was to either rip everything out and start over from the rafters and frame…or condemn the structure. There was no way to “remodel” without “ripping it all open.”
The period of 2018-2019 was that decisive moment for me. I’d done a lot of emotion work over the decades of my life. And even the last year I had done a tremendous number of EMDR sessions. So while it wasn’t perfect, it was decent. If you didn’t dig too deep. So I could have stopped there.
Yet, underneath the surface, I sensed a bigger problem. The question was, do I “open the wall” or just slap on a coat of paint and call it done?
It was that moment in life where I had to look at it all and ask, “Is it good enough? Have I gotten what I wanted out of my work?…essentially, “Am I done?”
I’d certainly be within my rights to want to stop. I’d worked my whole life, first to survive, then escape. Recover. Rebuild. Fight. Protect. My father was dead now for several years. My mother was declining. No one would blame me if I said I was tired; just let the rest go, kick back and enjoy myself.
Are we having fun yet?
But… I had to ask myself just how much “fun” I was really having. I still lived with raging nightmares and anxiety attacks. Body memories and flashbacks would pop up out of the blue. And try as I might to push them away and pretend they no longer mattered, the ongoing culprits — grief, depression, despair, crushing loneliness, fear for no reason, and just a deep sorrow — were right there at my elbow.
Society pushes us to move on, get over things, and “focus on the bright side.” But could I really just “ignore” what wouldn’t leave me alone even when I was busy doing other things? Do I just try harder to ignore it? Or do I have to, YET AGAIN, dig in to work on something deeper? Hadn’t I made enough progress?!
Why did it always seem to come down to this?
In speaking with my therapist, she summed things up this way:
“You’ve done a fantastic job all your life taking what happened to you and turning it into positive action. Somehow you did not end up in an abusive relationship. You have no addictions. You are not self-destructive, and you are HIGHLY functional. You have managed to dissociate from all those painful emotions and lead a very good life. But for all your life, you have kept those emotions locked down very tightly and off to the side. Now, in our EMDR work, you’ve finally been accessing what you actually felt during those times. It was too much for you then. But now, you are slowly taking that dark ball of tightly bound-up energy, and the strands of the various emotions tangled there are coming loose. Now we can access them better and work with them.”
The choice
As usual, she had nailed it.
I HAD worked hard. I HAD done a fantastic job. No one was arguing that. BUT…there was still a well of rot in those supporting beams. I felt the signs in my gut. She knew it was there and so did I.
Maybe the structure would stand. Maybe I could get away with a coat of paint. But, was that good enough for me? Would I always be looking over my shoulder, afraid that “something” would catch up with me and crumble apart….Something I could have fixed? And would I always wonder… Could I have been something more if I kept working?
My mind spun. I was tired. Enraged. Sad. So much had been taken. It wasn’t my fault. I’d had to do so much just to get this far. Deep within, my heart cried out, When does it ever end?!
That’s when that other, quieter voice within answered: “Never. At least not until you’re dead. But then…would you have it any other way? Would you be satisfied if you gave up on yourself now?”
And the truth of it was, no. I would not be. HE had taken a LOT from me. No question. And it was totally wrong. But did that mean I should give up on me, too? No one had ever expected me to make it this far. Maybe a lot more was still possible for me if I kept going?
I dare me…
Something from my childhood echoed across my brain at that moment. Those Sunday nights, driving home from visiting our grandparents. It would be nighttime, dark, and my siblings were asleep in the car. Yet I fought sleep because I wanted to see EVERYTHING on the ride home. The beautiful lights twinkling in the Naugatuck River next to the highway. The houses with their lights on inside that I strained to see into so I could learn how other people lived. I wouldn’t go to sleep because I DIDN’T WANT TO MISS ANYTHING. Did I want to miss anything now?
Painting by author
The bottom line was that even though I was a tired sixty-something, inside I was still that same kid who never turned down a dare from any of the neighborhood kids. And never shied away from a challenge. To that kid, taking the easy way out was repulsive.
A quote I’d heard recently came back to me: “Hard is growth. Easy is to stay the same.” I sighed.
No. There was only one choice for me. He might have taken a lot from me. But I wasn’t going to yield even more. I would reclaim every single bit of whatever life still had to offer me and nothing less.
So on with the Dark Night of the Soul, and let the unravelling begin…
Note:
I am seeking financial support to complete my memoir, work with an editor, and make a visit to my home state 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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