I was sitting on my couch in my sweats and I literally couldn't move. I was even trying to force myself to get up. But I couldn't. I felt completely empty, hollow and unmotivated to do anything to make that go away. Side note, this is not the norm for me, not by far. My norm is hustle, move, clean, prepare, hang with my kids, from sun up to sun down. But today... not so much.
I tried to think of all the things I could do, all the self care things on my list that would supposedly cheer me up and pull me out of this funk. But not a single one of them sounded the least bit enticing to me. None of them! The only thing that motivated me was the thought of moving my butt from the couch, to the bed, and falling asleep.
I sat there and actually thought, "What the hell is this? I don't want to move, I don't even want to think!" And then I took "the pause". (Oh thank goodness for the pause.) I took a step back and looked at myself in this situation and did some refection on what really was going on; looked at what actually had happened during the day to cause this to happen to me. Because this level of sadness had never found a home in my body before and it was foreign to me as to how to figure out what to do with it.
So let me back up. Earlier in the day I was at a gathering with Jessie that was heavy. A deep level of heavy that I still can't shake, as the thought of it causes a lump to rise in my throat right now as I type. We were there for only an hour and a half, but the level of sadness that was in this space was unbearable. For an hour and a half, we sat next to each other, stifling sobs and wails that we so desperately wanted to unleash, but didn't. It wasn't the time, it wasn't the place, and our pain was so much less in comparison to the pain of others in the room, that it just wouldn't have been appropriate. So there we sat. Jaws clenched, bodies clenched, holding on with everything we had. Trying not to completely lose it.
Now fast forward to my afternoon couch reflection. That numbness was still in my body, that pain that I had pushed down for over an hour was still there. It was clinging to my body so tightly, begging to be released, but I had suppressed it too long, and it was no longer an emotional reaction, but a physical response. I had shut down my emotions, and they had shut down my body and mind in return. That's when two things dawned on me. Number one: I can not imagine being in the shoes of someone who was made to bury their emotions day after day after day. I can not imagine the paralysis to their mind and body that they must suffer, and feel broken hearted that they may not be able to pause and figure out a way to get out from under it. And number two: I quickly (thankfully) realized that my stifled sobs were still trapped in my body AND NEEDED TO GET OUT. This feeling wasn't going to go away on it's own. I needed to exert that energy out of my body, and fast, before my entire day went down a depressing hole of darkness. So in that instant I made myself stand up and get dressed. And I hit up my home workout (my favorite form of energy release). I hit it till I sweat, till I cried, and until I felt relief. And thankfully, the relief came.
I hope I never have to go back to a space that felt like that. But that is an unrealistic hope. What I want to say to those of you who suffer with this daily is that the body is your key. The body is the key to becoming unstuck, un-paralyzed. Jessie can explain it much more eloquently than I, but on this day, I experienced the benefit of movement on my mind and my emotions. Please, the next time you find yourself curled up in a ball, even though it seems like the last thing you can muster up, just get up. Get up and start walking. Keep walking and don't sit down until your body has released what it is clinging to, or at least until you start to feel the tiniest bit of a shift in your spirit.
All my love to you,
Amber
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