Worthiness Wednesday #40 Dig a little deeper

As I mentioned yesterday, one of the things I wanted to share in this space was my experience of Christmas in 2011.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised. December had been a busy month. November had been a busy month, for goodness sake. We had our day-to-day routine of life and work and creative play, and we had various doctors and specialist appointments; a vaccination; numerous social obligations; my day job to apply for; three-year-old kindergarten arrangements to confirm; birthdays to be celebrated; two fences to be replaced; a neighbour's ego to be assuaged; a garden to be landscaped; a dear departed friend to be honoured; a novel to be finished; theatre to be attended; friends to be supported; haircuts to be had.

(I am sure this is not an unusual story for the latter part of the year, and wish to honour every woman who bore a schedule even more demanding, of which I know many.)

I also want to add that most of this was undertaken with the assistance of antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and pharmaceuticals to keep with asthma and hayfever at bay.

There was also #reverb, but that's something for another post.

Then there was Christmas. And I have to say that I was really looking forward to it this time around. A big part of this was the fact that my little 'un was really excited about it all, being of the age where she had more of an understanding of what was going to happen (i.e. she was looking forward to receiving presents, but also all the family celebrations that would go with them!).

I hired an ethically sound Christmas tree and decorated it with handmade owls ordered via Etsy, listening to Sufjan Stevens' Christmas albums (and emailed friends joking that it would be a Stuff White People Like Christmas). I bought and wrapped presents, wrote and posted Christmas cards, crafted Christmas decorations with my little 'un, took her to see the Christmas windows in the city.

I didn't think my expectations regarding the day itself were wildly out of proportion.

We were hosting my in-laws for lunch. Each person brought a dish, my husband was all set to cook the turkey, I had the vegetarian meals in hand, and the Kris Kringle presents were purchased. Then we were set to go to my sister's house in the afternoon, where my parents were joining her for lunch (though unfortunately, a certain little person's meltdown and a crazy hail storm put paid to those plans).

I knew that I wouldn't be spending quality time with my family on Christmas day. I knew that the time spend with my parents (on Boxing Day) would be almost exclusively focussed on my little 'un. I knew that my husband wouldn't be giving me a Christmas present, as he left it to 22 December and they item he was looking for had sold out. Then, on the same day, he got hit by a car crossing the road at a pedestrian crossing (he was in the right and, thankfully, he was OK) and wasn't quite himself for a week or so. This also meant that I was designated driver throughout the festive season, which included a 100km round trip to collect the turkey that was in his office fridge (that he wasn't able to bring home after he was hit by the car).

But for some reason -- after my little 'un opened her presents and spent a good hour or so sailing delightedly up and down on the hallway on her new scooter -- I spent most of Christmas morning crying in the shower. Then struggling to get out of bed for the next few days.

To be honest, the only reason there wasn't a Worthiness Wednesday post last week was because I had trouble surfacing and completely lost track of the days. Twenty four hours passed before I realised that a Wednesday had been and gone.

I know I can rationalise the way I felt using all the things I have written about above. But I know that there's more to it than that. And it's so deeply embedded -- it's something so close and ingrained -- that I can't really see it.

As much as I know it's going to be painful, I will start the process on unravelling it when I see my therapist on Friday. The sadness, the confusion, the pain: they all felt extremely familiar. I suspect they're related to my deep aversion to strong feelings, especially anger and disappointment (even when they are warranted and even when I don't need to act upon them). I wonder too if they are related to the panic that sets in when I start to feel extremely lonely.

If I'm going to make any significant progress, I know I really need to feel these things afresh. I know I'll need to sit with them if I am going to learn anything about my self. I know I will eventually transcend these things, and that they will one day stop holding me back, but until then it is not going to be pretty.

It's going to be a lonely process and I'd love to know there are other kindred spirits out there, summoning the courage to dig a little deeper. Although it mightn't be the sweetest place -- at least initially -- I offer you my hand as we step into the murky place that we might otherwise ignore/justify/explain away and switch on that searing flashlight.

This week, I invite you to dig that bit deeper, so that a beautiful clean light can tough the most tender part of your soul.

Because you are worthy of self-knowledge and you deserve freedom from self-imposed darkness.