Interlude of Gloom

Every year, around this same time, I am subdued with sadness. I try to forget it; I even try to repress it, but the same feelings of emptiness, loss, and extreme sadness still besiege my mind. The backdrop of that painful season looms over the walls of my conscience. It was this time, almost 14 years ago, when my beloved grandmother was quickly and tragically stricken with and succumbed to terminal cancer. I always ask myself, what I could have done differently. Why didn't I notice a sign? Why didn't I take a more radical approach in treatment options, etc. Did I pray/fast hard enough, etc ... Then, there's the night that you practically begged me to stay overnight at the hospital with you. Probably the last request you would ask me, and I couldn't even meet that; I probably will never forgive myself for that. I tell myself each year, it will get easier, and it never does. I vow to do things to cheer me up, but they never work. I laugh and crack jokes to diffuse my agony, but even that tactic is short-lived. I think the biggest shock of it all is that, in my eyes, she was 100% invincible. And to watch a pillar in your life literally be brought down to the ground does damage to you on many levels. I can't even express how much this tragedy has affected me. Honestly, I should have sought grief counseling because it lead me to be functionally depressed for many years. And though I think I cope better now, there are still parts of this tragedy in which I have yet to receive closure. I guess this will just be one of those things that I continuously wrestle with for the rest of my life. I look back at my successes, and they become bittersweet because you were not there flashing that million-dollar grin and rooting like absolutely nobody else could. I pray so desperately that you could just come back and give me the advice and spiritual counsel to maneuver me in the right direction, but I guess God has the master plan. So I'll just keep on trusting Him and trucking along. I know sadness is not what you would have wanted or me, so let me pick myself up and conclude this interlude of gloom. I declare that this must be one of the 'by and bys' that the hymn of old declares will be revealed down the line. Missin’ you much, Gram. Sure could go for my hug and kiss about now.

The Ingestion of Pain

The concept of pain is universal and we all experience it; however, the way pain is processed is where the ambiguity comes in. In considering the way I process pain, I realize that I’ve tried many coping mechanisms. At one time, I felt repressing painful memories to the point of amnestic abandonment would work. Boy, was I mistaken. That only works until you come across something that triggers a cognitive relapse and opens the memory’s floodgates—allowing emotions to spring forth like a hot geyser. One of the worst scenarios of internal pain occurs when we are unable to forgive. That type of pain consumes and eats away at time, relationships and ultimately, one’s conscience. Once the conscience has been consumed by such negativity, bitterness breaks out like a stage IV cancer. I’ve come to the realization that time can be a medicine to pain, but ONLY when we decide to take it in prescribed increments. And while stubbornness won’t stop the hand of time, it can certainly paralyze the process of healing. As a child, I was told that it takes seven years to digest gum. Though this proved to be a myth, there was indeed a lesson in this generational folklore. Unprocessed emotions get stuck within our emotional digestive tract and without the necessary attention, will infiltrate even the purest of emotional exchanges. Refusal to address pain keeps you cyclically returning to the very source from which the pain originates. Even still, processed pain is designed to extract positive growth. There is a purging of sorts which occurs when we allow the affects of pain to strengthen our emotional muscle tone. However, the intent of some pain is to intercept personal fulfillment and to leave a bitter residue to cloud our judgment and to sour even the simplest of intentions. With this portrait of pain drawn, I am now accountable to approach pain quickly and honestly as possible. Why be evasive with feelings we’re left to process daily? Of course, it is tempting to ignore taboo subjects altogether, but what does that do to personal growth? A situation or a person may not change, but does that mean that I can’t? God forbid. Before I allow pain to progress into ugly manifestations of discontentment, I’d rather address it. Rejection, humiliation, betrayal, and disregard are all potent tools that lead many into the snares of addiction. But for some reason, I just believe that if I tackle these feelings head on, it’ll eventually strengthen me into a man who is transparent in his experiences, proactive in reconciliation, and one who can make the pathway clearer for others treading behind me…