Bad Surprises
They say "I got the rug pulled out from underneath me."
I think this is the way people talk about bad surprises because it evokes the image of a person momentarily losing balance.
But what if there is no floor underneath the rug? What if the floor didn't exist, and the rug was just stretched tight and stapled down over a few joists like a painting canvas, but then suddenly, while you are standing there, it gets ripped up and you fall between the joists and you have to catch and cling to them while you mentally go through the paces of having thought there was a floor underneath you all this time.
This is how I have felt.
On repeat.
I got the rug pulled out from underneath me and it turns out there was no floor under that rug.
The fourth anniversary of Chris' suicide is tomorrow.
I got another bad surprise yesterday, which reminded me of how much I hate bad surprises. It is my trauma.
"Surprise! Don't go down to the basement - your husband's body is hanging there. Yes, I know he just went to the dentist to get a crown replaced this morning. Yes, I know it is a Wednesday, and your kids are at summer camp. Yes, I know you have three babies. That is why this is such a surprise. Surprise! He is hanging from the joists."
This week there were bad surprises, but I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I am clinging onto the joists again and listening to my brain.
"Don't let go. Figure this shit out. You've been here before. You've got the bruises under your arms, remember? It's the same place, every time. It's the same pain, every time. You know this. You've got this. It's just more of the same. Remember how you got out of this last time? Do that thing. Again."
But also.
"Hahahah! There's never a floor. It's always just a rug with staples. When are you going to learn? You're never going to learn. Look, you're hanging onto the joists again because you will never learn that there is no floor. Damn girl, that's funny AND sad. I need a drink."
I got the rug pulled out from underneath me. Again. And it turns out there was no floor. Again.
It's just me, my body, and the joists that are keeping me from falling. Again.
I hate bad surprises. I feel foolish for forgetting there is never a floor. It's always just a rug. I have to remember. I have to always remember and be prepared.
One bad surprise is too many--there's enough to teach without having to be so immersed in grief, adjacent to grief. Thinking of you and wishing you the best, always.
ReplyDeleteJ
Dont know how, but ya gotta leave the past. Learn and move on. There WILL ALWAYS by unknown hurdles...
DeleteOuch and that’s really not very helpful. But you have solid ground, you built that solid ground for your children and for yourself. You toiled and sweated and fought for every small inch of that ground.
ReplyDeleteYou Own that ground, it’s in your heart and it’s in your head, really, over the time I have followed your posts, I have seen and read and know you have solid ground that you and your children stand on.
Your own ground, not a rug nailed to floor beams, not a pit you fall in. No matter what monsters crawl out of their damn boxes, you own that ground, it’s solid, and from it you can and you will drive every damn monster back into their damn boxes.
Today was not a winning day in my small world, long hard sweaty work all weekend and NO, the damn electrical service upgrade is Not done, is Not ready for Ameren, is a huge disaster waiting to get worse… but every damn thing with this old house has been a hard fought battle…I eventually win…but take a lot of expensive battle damage.
We are both strong women. Stronger and smarter and more determined than people give us credit for. We will both win, you with this new battle and me with the latest old house repairs and improvements
This is exactly the words (rugs with no floor) that I have used to describe how it felt to colleagues, therapists , family and others. This was very touching and impactful. I appreciate you and your blog. Thank you.
ReplyDelete