Numb

Since I arrived back in the US, about 6-weeks ago, I’ve been numb.

Not feeling upset.  Not feeling joy.  I simply did not feel.

I didn’t feel because I was ashamed of my feelings.  I felt shame when I felt scared, because I was as safe as one can be right now.  I felt guilty when I felt sad, because others had it so much worse.

So I went through the motions of my day - emotionless.  

I carried an excess amount of guilt for even thinking I was anything other than fine.  Yet, my gratitude journal next to my bed remained closed.  Every night I would go to sleep refusing to process all the feels swirling inside me. 

I walked the same exact route every morning.  The same 2.6 miles.  So unlike me.  The routine felt comforting.  

I made a schedule and taped it to the fridge longing for control.  (It hasn’t been followed once.)  

And I didn’t post to social media, because everything I wanted to share just felt wrong.  Too much negativity felt unlike me and like more crap dumped on the overflowing shit pile.  Too much positivity felt ignorant and who can be happy at a time like this?  Nothing felt right.  I lost myself.  My truth was all over the place.  

I wanted to be grateful.  I knew I SHOULD be grateful, so when I pushed, really pushed, to find the things I was appreciative of, it was for things like:

• Not having to worry about food, shelter or abuse

• Not having to socially isolate alone

• Not having a partner about to lose their job

• Not having to homeschool my kids while working full-time

• Not having lost a loved one…yet

And not only does every single thing I listed push off of a negative mindset, it pushes off of comparison.  Because everything I thought I should be grateful for, was compared to what I knew others were experiencing.  

Then two things happened.  

First, a friend shared in a group text the fact that when trauma energy is stored up in your body, it keeps score and if you are not processing and releasing those feelings, it can lead to PTSD.

Second, I stumbled upon a beautiful podcast by Brené Brown.  She explained that by ranking our suffering in comparison to others and telling ourselves that our suffering doesn’t score high enough for us to feel it, we aren’t giving ourselves permission to process our emotions - and if we don’t, they double down.  Plus, empathy isn’t finite and the only way to be empathetic towards others, is to first have empathy for ourselves. 

So all of a sudden, I allowed the flood gates to open.  Cause here is the deal: 

I miss my husband - a LOT.  Living in a home that isn’t yours is hard.  Parenting/homeschooling a 4 and 6-year-old is exhausting.  Not seeing your tribe sucks.  Not knowing what the future holds is really unsettling.  Our government’s lack of leadership is astounding.  And people are dying - which is really scary.   

Plus, last week when ASIJ canceled school for the year, Minnesota closed all pools and beaches for the summer and the American Embassy sent out a letter explaining that Japan’s borders are closed to Americans, only 11% of flights to the US are operating and any expats staying in Japan need to understand they will now be there for an indefinite amount of time - well that was a huge gust which extinguished any small light I had at the end of my tunnel.  And Steve was on the other side, in a city that just declared a state of emergency.

But the difference this time was I allowed myself to feel upset.  And by doing so, surprisingly, I was actually able to give myself a pass to feel the good stuff again.

I was able to appreciate:

• Having the opportunity to go on walks in nature each morning 

• Having resilient kids that are really freaking happy right now

• Having parents that are creating priceless memories with my boys - and me

• Having moment after moment of connections with friends all over the world 

• Having FaceTime chats with Steve every morning and every night like clockwork, where sometimes all we do is study each other’s faces

Because I will feel upset and I will feel joy and I will feel all the other feelings a person can possibly feel at this moment in time.  There will be bad days and good days and bad minutes and good minutes and that doesn’t make me anything other than human.  Just like you.  Feeling my feelings. Wanting to know when this will end. Scared to know what my unique version of this story will be. Riding the wave.  Speculating what life on the other side will look like. Experiencing this all - alone together.