Press Pause
Why is it all so relentless?
I was at coffee with my mom yesterday, enjoying the 73 degree weather and an exceptional iced latte, when yet another text from a friend experiencing a very hard time popped up on my phone. Despite sitting outside in the dappled sunshine, chatting with the woman who flew into town just to help me babysit my nephew over the previous weekend, my heart sunk to a depth I honestly didn’t know I had.
There’s just so much, I said to my mother, my hands pressing into my chest. So much sadness, I can’t take it anymore.
For context, it’s been a particularly rough couple of days for the people I love. Loss, death, and heartbreak are piling up in a way I’m now coming to, very begrudgingly, associate with my mid-thirties. This is just what happens at this age, my mom assured me, gently reminding me that I’m not the only person to both experience and witness such a deep, overwhelming well of pain.
Of course, by the time you hit 36, between aging parents, aging pets, an unstable job market, and spending enough time in therapy to know your worth (which, to clarify, is very much a good thing) there are many, many painful moments that are simply unavoidable. But then there are the unexpected losses you cannot prepare yourself for. The ones that don’t result from age and time but are just a horrible, heart-wrenching twist of fate. The cruel coincidences. And with more years spent on this planet, the odds of those things happening seemingly multiply. That is the part of getting older that they hide from you when you’re young and idealistic. Because why would you feel desperate to grow up if you knew what kind of terrible things you’d have to inevitably endure?
One of the most mind boggling parts of this is that, we’re all just supposed to… keep going. Navigate around the grief of life like we’re not doing our best to keep from crumbling. I’ve already realized this of course—the one-two punch of my dad’s death and getting diagnosed with an incurable neurological disease less than a year apart certainly made that point loud and clear. But I think deep down an idealistic part of me expected that there would be some sort of break; a well-deserved pause in the chaos. Like a kid anxiously awaiting summer vacation, I assumed that all of that suffering and turmoil would take a hiatus—even if a brief one.
PSYCH. Apparently not, my friends. This shit is relentless.
This is when I struggle to feel like I’m not being a cynical monster all the time, even though honestly (and according to my therapist) I really don’t think that I am. Sure, I don’t love when people tell me how strong I am in the face of my MS diagnosis, but I’m also never going to be the person who allows my circumstances to steal every last ounce of joy from my life. That is courtesy of many things, like being raised with unconditional love and a current SSRI prescription, and I’m damn lucky to have them. Still, these moments, when it’s very very hard to see the forest for the trees (the forest being a super relaxed, chill, happy month when nothing of consequence happens) when all of this suffering appears to be playing on repeat.
It’s easy to say some platitude like, the only way out is through (it is) or, this too shall pass (it will) but in the eye of this particular type of storm, I’m doing my absolute best to not feel so bad about taking some time away from the endless responsibilities of adulthood and just be really fucking sad. Sometimes that means taking a day off of work, or declining an invitation to go out, or eating that leftover Easter chocolate all in one siting. It’s not about pushing through or learning something inspiring or encouraging. Instead, it’s really just allowing myself to break a tiny bit. Because this is so, so, so hard to witness and to feel—and I feel everything. An empath to my core, and a new member of the autoimmune disease club, I’m learning that the need to step back, take a beat, and not try to push through and be strong is essential.
To put it bluntly, more than I ever imagined or prepared for, the world is just really fucking hard. So I, and everyone else around me who is struggling through the mess of existence, can 1000 percent demand a pause for ourselves, because apparently, the universe is never, ever going to grant us one. So take it. Take it, whatever it looks like, and don’t apologize for it. I’m trying my best to do the same.
I’ll drink an Anxiety Beer to that.
retail < therapy
J.Crew Audrey Slim Leather Sandals: I’m all here for the flip flop trend this summer—yes, the Olsens are still two of my style icons—but I need a bit more material to keep my foot safe on the NYC sidewalks. This leather pair is ideal for climbing the stairs of the subway and pairing with my go-to linen pants.
Tibi Viscose Plisse Sleeveless Bias Dress: Do I need a chartreuse knit dress for summer? Why yes, I thought you would never ask. Tibi never steers me wrong, and the current sale section is better than I’ve seen in a hot minute.
Aware Hair Professional Scalp Care Shampoo and Conditioner: It takes a lot for me to feel like a shampoo and conditioner is really something special (most of them are… fine in my opinion) but I do feel like I notice a difference in the overall quality of my hair with this scalp and hair-loss-focused wash day duo. It also smells delicious—even my boyfriend has commented on the scent, and has subsequently used half the bottles in my shower.
Until next time, friends.
xxHB
Love you
Bravo for bravery.