I had a pretty intense, crappy situation happen recently to someone very important to me, and the occurrence of which also impacted me (but not as severely). I can’t share much, because it’s private matter, and does not belong on the internet. I swear I’m not trying to be a drama hound. When I was processing the situation, I was unable to grieve. I was in “fix it” mode, but I usually still feel all the feels.
I have a lot of close calls, and as a result, I sleep poorly and am hypervigilant. I am gaining weight and losing hair. I had 2 black eyes at work on Friday, which I thought was from Paloma kicking me, but more likely is from sleep debt, as I recall only getting kicked on one side.
I pray, ceaselessly.I pray with a mouthful of terror. I pray with desperation, as if stranded on a desert island. I pray robotically. I pray “helphelphelp” and “thankyouthankyouthankyou” through tears. I pray thanksgiving for the wonders of creation, for mountains and photosynthesis and water.
And sometimes, I don’t pray at all, for weeks.
Brushes with tragedy can leave scars, and are evidence of their power. However, I am living, and will continue to do so. I will continue to be exposed to the elements and lurking beasts. I will risk being fully alive, because I don’t want to be an empty cicada’s exoskeleton where a man once was. We had a close call, but we have great friends to help us pick up all the pieces, and we’re going to be okay.