Pain. Does it ever really get better? Or, do we just get better at covering it up? On the anniversary of a tragedy (a life-changing injury or the death of someone in your inner circle, a divorce….the list could go on and on), well-meaning people tend to say something like, "I hope that the pain gets less and less with each passing year," or, "Time heals all pain."
But I kinda have a problem with that. Those kinds of sentences (despite the person's good intentions) implies that pain is something that vanishes over time.
Like, your pain is in a bucket and with each passing year, you take a scoop of pain out. If you follow that logic, then at some point, depending on how much pain there was to begin with, the bucket would be empty. You would be pain-free.
But that's not how I see it. Deep, dark pain - the kind of pain that changes every aspect of your life - never goes away. It doesn't get easier with each passing year. Not a day goes by that you are not reminded of what was lost. Sure, in the beginning, you probably cried yourself to sleep. Maybe even hated the world and the way everyone in it just went about their day as if nothing even happened while you were so overcome by tragedy that you could barely move. Or speak. Or think.
That's in the beginning. After the beginning, when everyone assumes you have moved on and adjusted to the "new normal," that damn pain is still there. It's always there. You just make a Choice to move forward with life.
Sometimes the Choice to move on is the most painful thing of it all.
It makes it seem like it doesn't matter. Like you're okay with the way things are.
But, we all know that is not true. We're not okay with the way things are. But, what Choice do we have? Lay in bed all day and let our kids grow up without a mom or a dad? Lose our jobs? Drink? Sure, those things might happen. But then we wake up and realize that it's time to join the rest of the world. The rest of the stupid world that is moving on with their days.
Except, what if the "rest of the world" is hiding pain too, just making it through the day? What if everyone is making a Choice to put their bucket of pain on a shelf and rejoin society? That's what I think. Everyone has pain. The pain doesn't go away. Deep down, it's there, and all it takes is a song, a memory, and smell to bring it back to the surface. As if all of the living you've been doing never happened and you're right back at the scene of the crime - when your life was split into two parts.
Before and After.
But then the phone rings, the kids call or the light turns green and we quickly push the bucket back on the shelf, and rejoin the After.
Because, after all, what Choice do we have?
But I kinda have a problem with that. Those kinds of sentences (despite the person's good intentions) implies that pain is something that vanishes over time.
Like, your pain is in a bucket and with each passing year, you take a scoop of pain out. If you follow that logic, then at some point, depending on how much pain there was to begin with, the bucket would be empty. You would be pain-free.
But that's not how I see it. Deep, dark pain - the kind of pain that changes every aspect of your life - never goes away. It doesn't get easier with each passing year. Not a day goes by that you are not reminded of what was lost. Sure, in the beginning, you probably cried yourself to sleep. Maybe even hated the world and the way everyone in it just went about their day as if nothing even happened while you were so overcome by tragedy that you could barely move. Or speak. Or think.
That's in the beginning. After the beginning, when everyone assumes you have moved on and adjusted to the "new normal," that damn pain is still there. It's always there. You just make a Choice to move forward with life.
Sometimes the Choice to move on is the most painful thing of it all.
It makes it seem like it doesn't matter. Like you're okay with the way things are.
But, we all know that is not true. We're not okay with the way things are. But, what Choice do we have? Lay in bed all day and let our kids grow up without a mom or a dad? Lose our jobs? Drink? Sure, those things might happen. But then we wake up and realize that it's time to join the rest of the world. The rest of the stupid world that is moving on with their days.
Except, what if the "rest of the world" is hiding pain too, just making it through the day? What if everyone is making a Choice to put their bucket of pain on a shelf and rejoin society? That's what I think. Everyone has pain. The pain doesn't go away. Deep down, it's there, and all it takes is a song, a memory, and smell to bring it back to the surface. As if all of the living you've been doing never happened and you're right back at the scene of the crime - when your life was split into two parts.
Before and After.
But then the phone rings, the kids call or the light turns green and we quickly push the bucket back on the shelf, and rejoin the After.
Because, after all, what Choice do we have?
