I suppose this whole “restarting the blog” thing has been a long time coming. Now that I’ve opened the door, stuff keeps on coming out of me. It’s probably a good thing.
*Insert joke about how counseling is probably a good thing too.*
I’ll keep this one brief.
Last night was a good night. Trev and I went on a date, I kicked his butt in arcade games, enjoyed a little vodka, we didn’t fight, and I actually felt pretty good. This morning was okay too. I woke up in a lot of pain as usual, but it subsided as I got ready and didn’t bother me very much throughout the day. And the best thing? For the first time in 69 days, (gentlemen plug your ears) I didn’t bleed. All day.
If I was capable of doing a backflip without breaking vital bones, I would.
And then I would do another one.
But amidst the actual “okayness”—dare I say “normalness”—I felt today, something also felt really off. Like that feeling you get when you’re watching a scary movie and something good happens to the main characters. Their happiness is almost unnerving, because you know it’s the predecessor for something awful.
It’s like a warning sign. Or a trap.
And this afternoon during my beautifully normal and not depressing trip to the bathroom, it occurred to me that’s exactly what was happening. Despite ALL the good things, despite feeling like a normal human for several hours…I was nervous. Like I had to look over my shoulder. Because if it wasn’t with me now, the pain had to be stalking me, waiting to take me down again.
I caught myself believing if I recognized and relished in the relief I was experiencing, the pain would be that much worse when it inevitably came back.
This is old news, but I often use this blog to preach to myself. This is one of those times. This is where I call myself out for that backwards mindset.
It’s utter garbage. It’s crippling. That mindset is the trap.
So even though it scares the skittles out of me, I’m going to go to bed tonight recognizing today was a good one. I’m going to say it out loud. To Trev’s face. And I’m going to give him a high five.
(Because sometimes you gotta getcha self a witness and declare that shiz.)
I know I said I’m preaching to myself, but if you’ve been fighting your way through a tough spot for a while, maybe this is for you too.
Just because the future isn’t known and isn’t guaranteed to be painless, does not mean present joy or relief is a lie or a trick or a trap.
I know it’s “safer” to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised. But why not give fear the bird, grab hold of the good and let it fuel you through the worst if it comes?
Maybe it’s not just a fluke. Maybe it’s a gift. Maybe it’s a glimpse of what’s to come.
One thought on “It’s (Not) a Trap”
So edifying, Hannah. Your sermons to self are always a blessing and I know others are reading them and feeling encouraged also. Enjoying moments of grace when they come (without fear) is something I needed to be reminded of so thank you, again, for writing and sharing. 💙
Love you so much,
Sent from my iPad