I feel lighter
seems like I've entered another purging season
I used to work as a receptionist at a spa for massage, esthetics, and acupuncture. I remember one woman who called for an appointment because her daughter purchased her a gift card and recommended she come. She didn’t sound enthused, but I booked her appointment.
When she arrived, I gave her an intake form to fill out, which she lamented having to fill out. She didn’t like the smell of the essential oils. She didn’t see the point of massage therapy or why her daughter urged her to try it. Lots of complaining.
After her massage therapy session, she came out of the treatment room crying. She had this chronic back pain for so long, she couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be in pain. She just adjusted her life around her pain before even thinking she didn’t have to be in such levels of agony every day.
Recent epiphany, some of our relationships are akin to chronic physical pain. You don’t realize how much they’ve been draining you until they end. And I’ve had a couple friendships fall out that felt exactly like massaging away chronic pain. And it’s weird. I almost feel bad that I…don’t feel bad. Like, is that allowed? Am I a sociopath who doesn’t care about anyone? Surely I need to be sad or upset or mad about this outcome, or try to work it out, because I'm not an asshole?
No.
I still could be an asshole, but that’s not really the point. The lightness is saying something. The connection didn’t end so much as it expired, and maybe it’s okay to feel relief. It’s okay to embrace the fact that my brain is a little less fogged. I’m less frustrated and irritable. I don’t feel hopeless and sad, because none of these feelings were mine to begin with. I was just holding them for these poor connections like a damn locker to throw dirty gym clothes into. Maybe we were both doing that to each other, but now I’ve grown to be less miserable, or developed better ways to cope. And I’m proud of myself for doing that work. Letting go of relationships that don’t reflect my growth feel like a betrayal to myself.
Misery is sort of its own language, and getting to a healthier mindset is like learning a new language. What I’ve unfortunately come to realize is that, while I’d love to see friends and family members get out of their ruts and feel better like I’ve begun to, speaking to them from a healthier space simply isn’t understood. They’re not literate in anything but misery, with an unwillingness to learn a new language. Yet the more time I spend not speaking our shared language, the less proficient I am in it. I can understand it, but I’m less and less able or willing to speak it back. So what is there to talk about? That’s where I am.
This experience isn’t novel, but it’s new to me in that it’s been historically hard for me to stand up for myself in these situations. I tend to see the hurt in people before registering the harm they’re doing to me. That could be a bit of a gift, but not the way it’s operated in my world. I’ve spent too much time sympathizing with people hurting me and…I don’t know, letting them continue due to pity? I don’t know why I’ve never stood up for myself, but I am now and I’m proud of that.
So that’s a little reflection at the end of a week where I let some stuff go. Ciao for now.