When I go out into the community, especially after being a recluse for so long, there’s the inevitable ‘how are you?’ with a sweet smile. Sometimes an acquaintance with nod and smile as we walk past each other, but the ones we know on a more conversational level, the ones we might call ‘friends’, those are the ones who ask us.
What do you answer? I smile and ask if they want to glossed-over polite answer, or how long do they have to listen, or do they really want to know.
I don’t want to bombard someone with all that’s going on. Because a LOT is always going on in my life at the moment. Not to say that it isn’t in others’ lives, but the overwhelming everything of our current existence is simply too much to sum up into a 5-minute polite conversation.
And in truth I don’t think people really really want to know. Oh – there is one person who I saw recently who I think did want to know, with a heartfelt listening. I’ll talk about her later, in a post I’ve been composing in my head.
So – I’m curious what do you answer?
Do we go into society, into our communities, into our friendships – however deep or shallow these might be – and declare the real raw truth. Do we open our hearts and our over-worked muddled brains, do we give the elevator pitch with a self-deprecating smile?
I’ve been, in the past, a bit burnt by sharing it all. But declaring my full self, and hence my full ‘how am I’. And that makes it hard to do it again.
Also, do other people really want to know? Do other people have the capacity to hold us and our pains? Do we have capacity to hold theirs? I don’t know.
I feel like there is such an overwhelm of all this in the world right now. That it is hard to have these conversations without feeling like we’re dumping too much on someone else, asking too much of them.
Do we all have to have our own psychologists to tell everything to? Is a one-hour session once a fortnight enough for this?
Lily Brett (one of my favourite authors) talks a lot (in her books at least, which one can only assume are very autobiographical to a degree) about having weekly analysis. One of her books says she’s spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on analysis.
This is not a reality, or probably actually a semi-thought, for most of us. Having the funds and creating the time for this is beyond regular life. Last year I did see someone for some time. It felt like an indulgence paying her to moan and complain about my life, my family, the annoying things that were happening, that we couldn’t work through, or sit with. The pain and challenges. What a privilege to have this space with someone listening and not expecting me to listen in return.
And yet, there must be space in society for this, without having to pay for it.
I do not have a friend or friendship group for this. I do not know if that is my fault, or society’s fault, or the fault of the community / town that I live in. I do not know if it is a ‘fault’ at all, but rather just the way it is.
My psychologist (Melanie – who I haven’t seen in over a year, so I wonder if she’s still officially my psychologist) said that most people don’t have those groups of forever friends who share all their life secrets, dramas, desires, challenges like we see on tv shows or movies. It’s – as always – a hard act to be in life having that as an influence and thinking we’re the only one without that friendship group.
I don’t want to drown you with all that’s going on. Except I know a lot of you have the generous grace and hearing ears, and holding hearts for that. The comments and emails from this post were indeed heart-warming knowing I am not alone in this.
Shall I say currently that if someone really wanted to know ‘how are you’ and wanted to sit and share tea with me in a sweet little corner space in a café, or a studio with a velvet armchair (oh yes oh yes, I think it would be deepest deep blue, though my sister once had a velvet couch that was green and that was quite delicious). For some reason I’m thinking tea in little Turkish cups, you know the kind that are glass with metal sides. And the teapot as well. Of course, that is entirely optional. As is cake. I feel like I’d eat too much cake if I was settled into the hug of that velvet armchair.
Though, if you baked me cake – what sort would you bake?
Here is what I might say, while we’re sitting listening, open, raw, looking into each other’s eyes and hearts. I would say that being the sole income earner is hard when my mental and physical health is bad. And the only thing stopping me from stressing (too much) is that we don’t have a mortgage or credit card and have a tiny bit of savings to fall back on. But, when you’re self-employed there’s no sick or holiday pay is there!
I would say that it’s freaking me out a lot that my (16-yr old) daughter is spending all day hibernating in her room, with the curtains closed, hiding in her bed. Coming out only when we force her to eat. And she’s been doing this for weeks.
That having these teeny seizures are making my brain foggy, fuzzy, unable to focus on anything. That some days are ok, and other days I can’t even read an email properly.
That I have no friends, that I have no energy to leave the house to have space to be with people. Is that the reason they don’t invite me places? Or do they not invite me and that’s why I don’t go? (Without making it someone else’s fault I do know a lot of the latter is a big case of the situation.)
That our house is always a mess. And my husband (Sam) and I have no physical or emotional energy to do anything about it. We had birthday flowers sitting in a vase on our table for a month. We don’t use the kitchen table at the moment, because it’s warm by the fire where we eat our meals. So, having it covered in paper stuff and some quilt wadding and the vase of flowers doesn’t actually get in the way except to drive our eyes and minds crazy. We’re obviously good at rose-coloured glasses. Or just in the couldn’t be bothered for anything stage.
There is a bucket of clean washing in the bedroom. Each morning I have to dig through it to find clean underwear. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this situation, am I? Please tell me so.
And, but there are the times when we go out for an afternoon walk. Where we sit by the creek, wave at a neighbour, look at the sky and the mountain. Where Sam knows by looking at my face that a seizure or an un-wellness of some sort has taken over my body and he holds my arm gently lovingly.
There are the times when my little one leans in and hugs me, and says he loves me. When he goes outside and helps with bringing in the firewood or dragging some fallen leaves to the pile.
There was that time when my eldest and I had a most beautiful conversation where we listened and opened, and cried. And he let me hug him, and he hugged me. And the times he comes home and shows me the photos he’s taking for work. And shows us the US dollars he just picked up from the post office for his big journey to the other side of the world, next month.
There are the times when I stand outside and see the moon, sometimes with a lunar halo, and see Venus sitting below her. And simply stand and take it in. The cold winter air swirling around me for a minute or two; knowing that I will run inside to the warm fire.
There are the times when the school mums’ messenger group chat are a lovely way to stay connected, were we talk about more than our kids. And these people who I don’t really spend a lot of time with in everyday life can still be part of something.
There are the times when I receive emails and messages from you.
There are the times I sit and pull our needle, thread, fabric and dream of the thing I’ll make. Big or small. And I actually start to make it. When my family all says when am I making their quilt, and it warms my heart to know they want that warm hug that I can create for them.
There are the times when I can sit and write, and tell someone how I am. And there are the times when I can listen to someone (you) tell me how you are.
I am trying to live with an eye out for things to be thankful for. The more we notice causes for gratitude the more they appear. And I have faith that the world goes through difficult phases as any growing being does. Like a teenager dies. I think our world is actually going through a phase of adolescence. Pouty, aggressive, impatient, judgmental, rude. It is hard to live with but I have to have faith that it is growing up.
Hi Ellie, thank you so much for sharing such a raw and open story about how you really feel. This spoke to me on so many levels. I also have been through a couple of difficult years of health issues both physical and mental - up and down. They are still ever present some weeks but I am slowly learning to lean into them and feel them for what they are as they move through me. I've seen that life gives us both what we label good and bad times and allows us to feel both.
What I have noticed over the last couple of years, is that I have developed a reluctance to going where people want to know "how am I". What do you say - do you pretend - no I don't want to do that anymore. Will they be interested in what I am seeing now? If I have flareups with my health do they want to see me - no they only want to see a healthy person? What I have realised now is that none of this matters really - I am who I am with or without health issues - I just am! As far as finding my people - they will come my way.
Ellie, please continue to share it is so helpful for us all - now for a lovely cuppa and sweet treat!