The Human Experience

I don’t want to talk about it.

I’m embarrassed and ashamed that I still don’t feel like I’m on my feet. I feel terrible that despite all of the encouragement and support, this morning, while holding my son, after hours of fussing and crying, and only 15 minutes of peace and calm, I screamed. Not at him. Not even at myself. It was horrible and primal. I wanted to release the frustration and failure I felt at being unable to make him happy, unable to get anything done in the few minutes that he was calm, and failing to just take it in stride. How many times had I been told that this is normal? It’ll get better? Many.

He’s two months old. It’s not his fault. None of this is. I, on the other hand, am 30, “strong,” “intelligent,” and “rational,” – or so they say.

But I screamed, and it literally scared the shit out of him. He jolted in my arms, went quiet, and as I readjusted my hold my hands came away wet and dirty. And then he started screaming.

I changed him. I changed my shirt (my third of the day because at 5 am after a feeding he threw up what seemed like a gallon of milk all over the both of us) – and while I was doing that he threw up his last meal once again, this time in the bassinet.

I screamed into a pillow half a dozen times, and then broke down into tears and picked my son back up. He was calm. Within minutes he was asleep, and now, instead of answering the pile of emails, or attending to any of my responsibilities, I’ve come here to tell you that I didn’t want to share this story.

I don’t want to be vulnerable right now. I want to close all the doors, pull down all the blinds, and wait out this storm alone. If I really had my way, you wouldn’t hear from me again until I’d overcome this, until I felt capable and human.

I do not feel capable and human.

I didn’t want to make this public. Regardless, I knew that I had to.

I don’t do this work to impress people, or to make anyone think that I have all the answers. I didn’t start sharing my spirituality and my life to convince anyone that everything is always going to be good, all the time. I did this, and I do this, I share this…precisely because I know that I’m looked up to.

I know so many of you are going through the hardest challenges you’ve ever faced. You’re hurting, and you feel lost, and you feel like it’s never going to get better. You get down on yourself that you aren’t over it, or that nothing has changed.

I’m sharing all of this because the human experience is so much more than raising your vibration, learning lessons, or overcoming obstacles. It’s also about barely keeping your head above water and letting other people, neck-deep, see that you’re there with them.

Look. You are so much more than what’s haunting you.

But it’s also a part of you. And it does you no good, and no one else any good, if you ignore what you’re going through. That’s where we really start to lose our humanity. When we’re all in a dark room, pretending we aren’t, and like we don’t hear the heartbeats of everyone else in there with us. What’s worse is everyone else is also pretending that they’re alone and that they can’t hear your heart either.

Hey. I hear you. I didn’t want to share this, but I had to…because I can hear your heartbeats somewhere in the dark.

If you can hear someone else’s heartbeat…speak up. That’s how we all get out of the dark.

(PS- Please know that I’ve started seeing a therapist and that I’m okay. I mean, I’m not okay, but I’m okay. Things are terrible right now, but they’re also fine. I’m looking forward to the day that the tone of these articles is lighter, but right now, today, I am where I am.)