Don't let the sinkhole swallow you

Don't let the sinkhole swallow you

I've been trying my best to get out of bed every day and not wallow in my heartbreak. I have to exert immense energy to not be sad, and then sadder, and then it's so hard to function.

It's not easy, this battle is very tricky, because in order to truly heal you have to feel your feelings, let them pass through. If you just avoid, it's putting a bandaid on a wound that will end up sneaking up on you way down the line, when you least expect it. You will find it seeping into your daily conversations, your most sacred relationships, and suddenly you find yourself confused, unable to discern where this negativity is coming from, and you just end up living half a life because your feelings are so jumbled and messy.

It's like that necklace that begins with one knot you ignore, the one you tell yourself you'll get to eventually, and then the knot turns into two, and three, and becomes so stubborn there's no untangling it back to clean and flowing. And by then, is it even worth the time? The energy you could be spending on other, more important, present things?

But here's the catch. You do not want to wallow and spend toooo much time feeling your feelings, because negative feelings breed more negative feelings. They're so prolific that if you do not put an end to it, you will find yourself drowning in pain, pain birthing pain until it swallows you whole.

So you need to allow yourself the time you know your heart needs, and then you start forcing yourself to get up.

For me it depends on the heartbreak, but the maximum I allow myself to feel sorry and sad and stay in bed is three days. I took this number from my religion. In Islam, a funeral lasts 3 days. You grieve and cry and let it out, and then you have to accept God's decision and let fate be, and get up.

So for major life catastrophes, which fortunately are so rare, I allow myself 3 days. For other disappointments, rejections, would-have-been unattainable dreams, I usually give myself one full day.

Then I force myself to get up, to be distracted, to fill my schedule, to be productive. To be moving, to be talking, to force myself into activities.

At first they feel heavy and almost stupid. Like what is this all for? Why am I taking this walk? Why do I have to pretend like I'm enjoying this grocery run? What am I even watching right now? Why am I posting this on Instagram? And I feel the pain luring me in, echoing my name, but then I find the strength and will to ignore the call, because it's a trap. Sometimes it hurts so much, I literally become numb. Numb to the pain, to all the feelings, to life. My actions feel like they are automated rather than genuine, my whole life becomes a series of automation, as if it wasn't me who's living it. As if I'm experiencing an out of body experience, looking at myself and life from the outside. And sometimes I actually forget, it works, I'm distracted. I'm so present and for a moment it all feels like a bad dream. Usually those times are when I'm around other people, people I love who are full of light and energy.

Day by day this forcing becomes easier, the healing kicks in, and something wonderful happens. It's so hard to wait, but every wait ends. It does get easier, and it's always going to be okay. I pace myself when I become impatient, when I start questioning everything. I inject positive thoughts into my brain, force feed it all the best case scenarios, the life I dream of living, the outcome I am chasing. I visualise it in my mind as reality. Your heart opens up again to better, bigger possibilities, and before you know it God's explanation rolls through. You see first hand why it did not work out in the first place, why the heartbreak was necessary, why you needed to go through it to get here, exactly where and when you need to be.

That's the beauty in it all, the more faith you have the easier this wait becomes, the more patient you are, the easier the healing is. I always recite to myself that the faithful ones are always happy, no matter what the circumstances are, because they know something glorious is right around the corner.

That thought alone is healing in its own way, because it turns something so horrible and dark into a butterfly.

You just have to hold on and keep pushing no matter how hard it gets. This post is a reminder for myself and anyone who is in this phase of it all, push through.

Don't trust me, trust God. It will bloom.