So I was looking for an antonym for joy that began with the same phonetic sound (yes, because I'm a songwriter 🤓) and although I actually couldn't find one, I'm morbidly delighted to have encountered the word Ghenna, which according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary can mean a nightmare or hell, eg: "the depression that has enshrouded her since the death of her husband is a Ghenna from which she may never be released."
That's a gloriously gloomy word that I intend to milk in the future for songs and posts. I mean, that's what we musicians are here for, right?
It's no secret that the last year has been really rough for our family.
I started this little thing a few years ago when my Gran passed away. It was reinforced when I lost my dear friend at a tragically young age. It's loosely based around Allhallowtide, or the Mexican Day of The Dead, and inspired by the movie #Coco, which Matthew and I went to see together just a few months before Gran passed (No, I cannot get through that end scene where Miguel sings #rememberme to his great granny without absolutely balling). We as a family have suffered many losses this year. My father, the children's mother, our uncle, and our beloved family kitty, Chai. And by the looks of things, this year is not done with us yet as Matthew's Gran on his dad's side is battling emphysema in ICU. Last night we took some time out to remember those we've lost and try to find peace and healing with them.
#grief #griefandloss #healing #dayofthedead #Allhallowtide
As we look back though, it is also a time to look forward as our lives plough on forward like out-of-control steam trains, lest we fall off the edge or drop all the balls we're juggling while trying to parent, adult, and negotiate the emotional fallout from our 2023.
It seems though, that my subconscious has other plans. Lately, I've found myself battling with awful nightmares from past traumas of all kinds that I clearly haven't healed from. It seems I've triggered some really old zombie-type trauma that just won't die. There are just some issues that I don't know how to move on from. Betrayals so deep that I get lost in the pain if I stay there too long. The kind of Ghenna that refuses to let you go and has you physically weeping in your sleep.
... See? I used my new word in a sentence...
I am in therapy and have been receiving treatment for PTSD (EMDR therapy, which is amazing, just by the way), but there are some things that I just can't put to bed and I'm not sure if I'm OK with just accepting that. There are apologies I need to make, apologies I deserve and the time for those things is not limitless, as the lesson of mortality has taught me lately.
How do I decide when to leave old wounds alone and when I need to dig festering bits out that are hindering the healing process? It's really difficult to tell when you can't see past your nose (psychologically speaking). I also need to consider the cost of my healing to others. Like, do the people who I perceive to have wronged me deserve to be dragged back 20 years? I don't know.
I do know I need to figure it out, most definitely with the help of my therapist. I'm trying very hard to mend myself and reroute my brain and unlearn certain unhealthy mental habits like disassociation, tuning out, and numbing. That means getting to the icky cause. Not just relying on the bandaid of medication and (although very valuable) therapy.
I came across this incredible video by Dr Gabor Mate that encompasses so much of what us going through my head and also ties in with one of my earliest mommy's Mental. Health posts about ADHD: Mommy's Mental Health - Chapter 2: ADHD, Mogwais and Gremlins
I cried the whole way through Gabor's video. It is so relevant to my own parents, me and my children and touches on how generational trauma manifests biologically. Fascinating and absolutely profoundly heartwrenching but eye-opening stuff. Totally worth the 10 minutes and a few rewatches.
As I'm going through this healing process and I'm stumbling and getting back up, I must admit I'm completely humbled and amazed by my children. They too have suffered and are healing. I'm watching me, and keeping our communication open, I've allowed my kids a window into what I hope is healthy grieving. Is there even really such a thing? I don't know if grief can be anything but a mess, but I'm trying to show my kids that it's okay to need each other, it's ok to hurt and be angry and it's ok to ask for help.
I did promise this chapter would also be about joy, didn't I? Well, I managed to land myself a really amazing job.
Well, it was amazing until I realized in my first two weeks there, that it's not going to work out in the long term. Like, I think I'm happy to help, but I know what I want out of life and this is getting in the way. I'm exhausted.
Working through lunch breaks, arriving early, leaving late and being left to feel like I'm just an emotional punching bag. It's also come to light that the staff turnover is terribly high. I wish I'd picked that up, but you know? One wants to think the best of people. It's the perfect distance from our home, a prestigious facility and an excellent salary. So why am I considering throwing in the towel? Because after everything I've been through this year, I've realized what really matters to me and for the 1st time in my life I am not afraid to speak up and stand my ground. I have realized that I have value that is beyond a paycheck. I am a wife and a mother. Above all, I am Claire. And it's taken me so long to find her. I refuse to lose myself again and that means reverting to plan A which was working from home and pestering my insurance to pay me out.
I was seriously upset, but I've made peace faster than I thought I would. I know I can create wealth, feed my soul and not neglect my family in the process. I don't think I have ever been in this position psychologically and as much as I hate the saying " what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger," I must admit I am emerging from 2023 as a completely different woman than I was at the beginning of the year. Maybe different is the wrong word. Authentic I think, describes it best. I don't have time for second best.
Midlife is upon me and my time to guide my developing children is running out.
I think, after all, I will ask myself that question: If I loved myself, what would I do now? And this time, it's not difficult. The answer is clear, now that the rain is gone.
