A year or two ago, I was talking to someone who was going through a really hard time. As they detailed everything going on, they noted "I'm just trying to hold it together and get through every day."
They didn't expect me to ask "Why?"
They didn't even really know how to reply. Because they always took care of everyone else? Because they didn't want to be a burden to others? Because they needed to buck up and be strong? Those are all very normal beliefs but they're ones that I hope we can loosen up a bit.
Profound loss can send us into free fall, and here, we don't even have to turn to a death to be sent spiraling. A divorce, a job loss, any major shake up can be incredibly disorienting. We try to keep up appearances, sure, but why?
I'm certainly guilty of trying to maintain a stoic appearance at all times but I know part of it, for me, was conditioned when I was incredibly young. Being weak was the worst thing in the world to me. Public display of strong emotion was a close second. But in trying to keep that part of my identity up, I wasn't allowing myself the support that I so desperately needed.
After Bill died, it wasn't even a choice. I couldn't hold it together and went into that free fall. The thing was? I never hit the ground because so many amazing people showed up and helped me through those weeks and months (and still now).
Consider this the emotional equivalent of a trust fall: We willingly let ourselves drop, knowing that others will support us. While we certainly don't want to take advantage of other people, if we can't fall into the cushion of their support during profound loss, when can we? We don't actually have control over other people's emotions - we can't "make" them uncomfortable or sad. We can let go of that stoicism and admit that we really aren't okay and really do need support.
Another way to frame this is simply to let our loved ones love us. It seems much more simple when framed that way. Trust them, trust yourself, and fall.
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