The Thaw

Thawing out to me is the hardest part.  The living fully is easy.  The not living part is sometimes easy.  The part I found the hardest was when the bandages were being ripped off… when the cracks came in the pretending and denial about being happy, about being “fine”, about the life I was living and how I was living it.

That part was the hardest because I was not anymore and not yet.  The in-between, unknown, the falling apart when I spent my whole life piecing together things the way I thought they should be.

The checklist.

The overwhelm. The resentment. The frustration. Anger. All somehow seemed easier when I was justified in staying there.  When I couldn’t see into my blind spot that I was the problem in my life, not my problems.

I was putting up with, silencing myself, not asking for and in fact in many cases pushing away what I wanted, what I craved and what I longed for.  Justifiably jaded.  Fearful.  Afraid it would be no.  Rejection. Better to pretend I didn’t want it and not get it than to  have standards and hold out for what I wanted.

I can’t consciously say why I did it.  Perhaps I wanted someone to fight for me. To convince me. It was just a habit, a reaction, a mask.  And eventually I forgot it was a mask.  Cynical. Jaded. Condemning.

It seemed so normal for so long.  And I see so many others doing the same thing today.  Living from a place of hurt, of reaction, of holding onto everything in an attempt to not be hurt, not realizing that holding onto it as a way of protecting yourself is the very thing that’s hurting you more.

Allowing myself to feel, to open the box, to sink below the anger, frustration, overwhelm was the hardest part – the thawing out of decades of emotions. Not knowing what to do with them, I shoved them down, and never processed them

The became resentment. Frustration. Anger.  They became toxic.  They made my body exhausted.  The fatigue was immeasurable. The heaviness a million pounds.  I didn’t know heavy until I let it go.  My legs ached, walking up a flight stairs – no matter how fit I was.

I struggled through.  Everything it would seem.  Everything just seemed hard.  Everyone seemed to be taking advantage of me, doing something to me.  And they were.  Because people are people, doing what people do.  But it was personal, except I made it mean something about me and I believed it through my already brokenness.

When we’re holding onto stuff – events, emotions, beliefs – we will filter life through those and we will find evidence to support them – justifying even more burying and pulling away and hiding.

When we process them, we explore them, we seek what we made it mean, we seek all the things it attached to it and we we pull back… so we don’t get hurt. And we’re justified in that, but we can’t live in that, not fully. There is a difference in discernment and hiding. Discernment allows us to see where someone is, if they are a good fit for us in our life, if they are hurting and hurting others because of it… it doesn’t have to mean something about us.

We can walk away at any time.  We can decide what we believe.  Just because someone else sees it, says it, believes it doesn’t mean it has to be our truth.  I unravelled a story one day – bit by bit – piece by piece – a remembering of sorts.

The pieces didn’t make sense as a whole and I couldn’t find the connection. The more I pulled and unravelled, the more it began to take shape.  Each piece allowed me to be a victim.  The archetype inside me was alive and well.

I held onto these things – when this person did that, when that person said this – it was all there, unravelling.  The pain of each one was immense as I processed how I felt.  As I searched for the commonality it became clear –  a veil lifted. I could see how I had taken each one of those things and made them mean something – that I couldn’t trust anyone, not even the universe.

And I got to be a victim.

But I didn’t want to be a victim.  That’s not who I was really.  But it’s the game I was playing. It was someone else’s fault, someone else’s responsibility, it was all of those things that told me to hide, to cancel, to run away, that it wasn’t safe.

It was true because I believed it and lived into it.  When I let myself process my feelings about each thing, suddenly I wasn’t a victim anymore. I was grounded.  Real. Raw.  I could see how I was holding myself back.

I was living a half life, a life that gave me no joy because I was scared other people were right, I gave up my power to those things and lost myself.  And in doing so, nowhere in the story, was it my fault.  It was someone else’s fault for saying, doing, not being there.

The thaw forces us to see the stories we live into, the beliefs we have, the pain we’re holding onto, how we let others treat us, how we make that mean something about us, how we treat others, what we make that mean about us… our beliefs about the world, who we are in it, what’s possible.

It fills us with rage, resentment, righteousness.

And it makes us incredibly lonely. It’s hard to live fully when you’re assessing every situation for who might hurt you, take from you, disappoint you, let you down.

Because invariably someone will.  Or a lot will.  Because, people are people.  And you get to be justified in not living at all.  And what are you proving really? You’re punishing others by punishing yourself? You’re cutting off your nose to spite your face.

The thawing out is place of deep feeling.  Deep rage.  Deep sadness.  Deep awareness.  Deep pain. It’s not unlike hypothermia.  When someone’s skin is numb and frozen, it no longer hurts.

But when you begin thawing out, the pain is almost unbearable. Once thawed, life flows again… pink cheeks, sparkle in the eye, bounce in your step, fatigue is gone, energy and vitality flow again.

Being frozen might seem seem easier but it’s not – it’s like watching your life from behind a curtain – not living at all.  The cost of reclaiming you is to defrost your frozen soul and allow yourself to fully live your life.

Don’t be afraid of the pain, for it will be your greatest teacher.  Don’t worry about where life will take you, if things need to change you’ll be ready for those changes.  Just start, one step at a time, of defrosting yourself.

Tonya

PS… if you need help with the process (everyone needs help with this process.  I don’t recommend you do it alone!) then let’s talk in a free discovery call-> Schedule Appointment

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