November around here has been pretty full on. As it is for most people, it’s everything coming together at once. Like the undercurrent from an earthquake that builds into a huge tsunami crashing down. Novembers are like this, and it’s something I mentally prepare for in the lead up.
This year though has been off the Richter scale. There’s been so many unexpected pressures and issues that have slowly combined into a fist of emotions. I feel like I’m ready to implode.
I am mindful of the feeling leading up to possible implosion or overwhelm, and have learned to handle it, mostly with success. And although I’m not totally ready to be carted off to the funny farm just yet, I am finding it increasingly difficult to control the wave of emotions at the moment.
What makes things more difficult, is that a lot of what is going on is out of my control. It’s that feeling of wanting to do something and knowing deep down in your bones that action needs to be taken, but it’s out of your hands. I feel the tension build in my neck, and the twisting in my stomach tighten.
Experiencing these emotions tends to scratch open old scars. It’s times like these I deeply miss my mother. When I long for the big family I never had. When my heart breaks because our young girls don’t have their grandparents around to attend ‘Grandparents Day’ at school. When being a step-parent really tests your resolve because even though you love like there’s no boundaries, there still is boundaries.
It brings up so much of my past, those tumultuous teen years which hold so many good times, but also regrets. The realisation of knowing I’ve blocked out so many memories because they were painful, that I now wish I could bring back to life – like restoring an old photograph. But it doesn’t work that way. Even physical memories and mementos are gone. And I wish they weren’t.
Yet, even though there’s so much going on, I know I won’t totally break.
I am strong, but I can still cry. I am determined, stubborn even, but I can still have weak moments. I am made of tough fibers that can withstand most things, but my heart still fragments.
But, I’ll make it through.
And that is why I write here. To remind myself later that I made it. To help me remember, it will happen again, and that I will make it through, again. And also to share, (as vague and lacking in detail it may be), so that others who feel similar degrees of emotional overwhelm, know they’re not alone.
I will make it. You will make it. We will make it.
Linking with Kylie over at Capturing Life for I Blog On Tuesdays