I feel like I am slowing falling to pieces. Little bits of me that I think I need keep coming off. As each piece rips off it hurts, more and more.
The buddists say to lean into the pain, edge into and confront your fear, don't run away, don't try to hide. So, I'm just standing here. Feeling like an idiot. Feeling exposed. Feeling bereft and alone and raw and hurty. I'm shivering and burning up and shaking to pieces. Waiting for it to stop. Waiting to hit rock bottom. Hoping to stop feeling for the bottom and to start to fly.
How far does a person have to break down, fall down, before they can start to climb again?
I can stand in the doorway of an airplane and throw myself out, because I know I will fly. I know the joy of life, of being alive, is right in front of me. I know my fear and angst is temporary. I know it will end just as soon as I jump.
But with this, I can't find the door to jump through. Where is the door, where is the portal to stop the painful moment after moment of rejection and aloneness and undoing? Find me the fucking door and I will jump through it. I'm alone in the unknown and doing my best to be brave and strong and the pieces just keep coming off.
I don't expect there to be some magical happy ending in which I never feel pain again. If I didn't regularly feel pain after all I've lost (and thrown away), then I would not be the human I am. I know there is no door to a magic land of joy and peace. But this ride has gone on and on more intensely than I bargained for. Let me off!