The Final Push (This Might Hurt)

I’ve had a huge amount of crap healing work surface this past week. The kind of stuff that a year from now I will look back on and muse, that was so powerful and worth every painful moment. But when you are living it? Total and utter bologna.

In fact, I have decided 2016 has largely been a very difficult year and I’m quite ready to ring in 2017 thankyouverymuch.

Let me list the reasons why 2016 royally sucked:

  • Miscarriage (for a pregnancy due on the day my mom died….ouch.)
  • Continued grief for loss of my mother and ripple effects from that loss
  • Gawker went under (this was a big one)
  • Trump was elected president
  • and, saving the best for last, a ton of unexpected childhood trauma healing work.  (Ok, maybe not totally unexpected. I decided to break my silence and share my story publicly for the first time, which meant that ten people who read my blog saw it, but trust me even that was a huge huge deal for me. So let’s just say the gates had cracked open a bit.)

Now, since I’m an optimist and someone who makes an effort to choose hope, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that I could easily list all the beautiful transformations that occurred this past year. A list that is longer than that craptastic list. But for today, I want to wallow a little.

So wallow I will. Stomp my foot and raise a fist to injustices. Grrrr!!

Oh, but the point of this post (other than a little bit of poor me) was to tell you about my dreams I had this past week. They are little sign posts keeping me going. 

The first dream was about a week ago. In the dream I was giving birth and up until this point in the dream the whole process had been so effortless–dare I say easy and painless? (clearly this is a dream)–but suddenly in the dream I felt stalled, and I knew that I was going to have to make one final push, and endure some pain, to give birth.

WELL I’M PUSHING NOW AND IT DEFINITELY HURTS.

And then last night, a dream where I am in a high school type of science classroom. We were all at seats with a microscope. Our instructions were to inject ourselves with some type of shot and then we were to examine the wound under the microscope.

I was reluctant to do the shot to the arm because I was afraid it would hurt, but it didn’t! And then I examined the wound up close. It was fascinating.

So hear we are. Enduring some pain, examining old wounds. Fun times.

But boy, (metaphorical) birth is close, I can feel it.

Advertisements