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Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Not gonna sleep through September


 “Wake me up, when September ends.” 

I liked this song by Green Day. But it never meant much to me until the end of September, 2010. That's when he died, and I couldn’t be in my own head then. It hurt too much to be there. To try and block out the pain, and the relentless stream of flashbacks, I would put ear buds in, connected to my phone, and blast any music that played on my app. I would turn up the volume on my phone as loud as it would go and shut my eyes tight as tears poured down my cheeks.  I used this thought blocking method for months, whenever I could, but especially at night. It was too quiet at night.  I would take a sleeping pill, blast the music in my ears, and not even notice the tears that pooled on my pillow.  I did this for months. Bravely smiling during the day, and drowning the thoughts with music at night. Night, after night, after night.  This is how I “coped.” I’ve learned that brains under trauma, or at least my trauma brain, find interesting ways to not deal with reality or pain. As humans, we are really good at “stuffing” things. We stuff envelopes, pizza, bra’s, even emotions. We somehow think that if we show too much emotion, we are perceived as weak. And weakness has no place in us. Or so I thought. So the music played on. And this song by Green day kept cycling through. "Summer has come and past, the innocent can never last..” “Click” I always changed that song, because it hurt too much. There I was again, stuffing the pain down, pushing it away. I was weak, I was broken, and I felt like I shouldn't be. I should be stronger, I should be over this. I should be ok. I was taking pills for anxiety, depression, sleep, and blasting music in my ears at night to deal, I was “getting through it," by not getting through it…. Until I read this scripture found in The Book of Mormon:

         
And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them 

Weakness does belong with us. Without the weak, we wouldn’t find the strength. It’s ok to be weak, to show emotion, to cry and talk. This is how we heal; this is how we become a stronger version of us. This is how our heart stretches and grows and finds the beauty in this fragile life we've been given. 

Chances are you will loose someone in your life. It’s a reality no one likes to face, but a reality nonetheless. If you have lost, or know someone who has, the greatest gift you can give them is giving them permission to be weak. Let them cry and don’t turn away. Let them speak of their loved one, who once lived. And you speak of them, too. Don't be afraid to share memories, good and bad. Laugh and cry and feel. Feel it all. I wish I would have done this then, but I am doing this now. And it’s scary, and it hurts, and sometimes I want the ear buds back, but then I remember my weakness helped me find my strength, a strength I never knew I had, until I was weak... and I don’t want to sleep through September.


 I found my heart in my weakness, what will you find in yours?



Xo, Stace

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