Learning to Wallow…Oh! And a Reminder That We Are Not Made of Rubber
2 weeks of recovery.
That didn’t sound too bad. That timeframe was written all over the papers that the surgeon sent home with me to prepare.
Comparatively, that seemed to be a fairly quick recovery time, although I'd never had surgery before myself.
And because I thought I understood how all this works, and I still think I know better than healthcare professionals (joking), I heard one week when they said over and over that it would take two…and I completely missed the "maybe more."
And, physically, it truly wasn't all that bad.
I mean, it was painful, and I felt the limitations, but it could have been so much worse.
But it was still a surgical procedure.
It was going to take whatever time it took to heal, and even though I was still smackdab in the middle of that time, I decided I "should" start getting back to my normal routines so I tried diving headfirst into cleaning the house, teaching music lessons, picking up my kiddo, writing, hanging out with good friends, etc.
But all of these were more taxing than I expected--unsurprising to my doctor or anyone else who has had surgery.
getting some post-surgery snuggles from this one; she was so caring while I was recovering
To top it off, this surgery happened to be scheduled just after I had taken a pretty significant mental and emotional blow from which I was also recovering.
I'd gotten some less-than-positive feedback on a piece of writing that I had written and published. It was vulnerable and deeply honest and wasn't received well by all who read it…such is life as an artist. Such is life as a human. Not everyone will agree with you, not everyone will like everything that you create or say or do, and that's ok.
But the fact that it's normal doesn't make it any less difficult.
I so badly wanted to prove to my critics that they had not affected me. I wanted to pretend I hadn't been knocked down, that I hadn't even flinched, and that I wasn't afraid to keep speaking my truth (or writing it, rather).
But the truth is it had affected me.
All I wanted was to "bounce back" by letting the criticism bounce off of me, but I didn't and it didn't…at least not in the amount of time that I had expected. I'm not made of rubber, after all.
All I wanted was to "bounce back" by letting the criticism bounce off of me, but I didn't and it didn't…I'm not made of rubber, after all.
Maybe you're this way, too, but I tend to create timelines and deadlines that would be impossible for anyone to meet; it's like I hold myself to a higher standard than every other human being.
So here I was, trying to recover both mentally and physically. I was bored of just sitting or lying on the couch. No movie or TV show was appealing enough to keep me distracted. And certainly, I thought, I could get back to writing…it's just sitting at a computer after all.
But like most things in life, it wasn't as easy as I expected.
I was drained of energy completely and I felt angry at myself because of it.
And then there was the mental battle of writing through a writer's block compounded by the events of the previous weeks.
And if I'm honest, even now as I'm writing this, even now that I've mostly healed physically from the surgery, I'm finding it hard to get moving again when it comes to writing.
How am I still not finished healing? Haven't I given myself enough time?
There are a chorus of "shoulds" in my head:
"You should be writing more."
"You should be back to normal by now."
"You should be able to balance and manage these extra doctor appointments and the kid being out of school and your normal responsibilities and (fill in the blank)."
"You should have bounced back by now."
There's something about that phrase--bounce back; it's loaded with expectation of what normal, healthy, strong people do. Certainly, they don't need time to recover so if I was strong, I'd be on my feet again already.
Maybe I am broken after all…
Nope. That's not true. I've spent too much time unlearning that lie. I am not broken.
So maybe it's the phrase that needs to be fixed then or perhaps the expectations we attach to it, the expectations, standards, and "shoulds" we immediately associate with those two words—bounce back.
We say that someone has bounced back and make it seem like the recovery happened in some incredible amount of time which completely invalidates the process, the stuff we don't see, the difficult journey of the in-between. We didn't see them having to ask for help with everything from getting out of bed to using the toilet to getting a cup out of the cabinet for some water.
We only see the fall and then we see them risen, but there's a whole process in between those two points that we may not see unless we're in close relationship with the person who fell so what we end up doing is creating a false image of what healing "should" look like.
Again, I'll remind you of the importance of showing yourself in process (see this blog post).
“We say that someone has bounced back and make it seem like the recovery happened in some incredible amount of time which completely invalidates the process, the stuff we don't see, the difficult journey of the in-between.”
And then, there's another should that we hear when we're down:
Pick yourself up.
Dust yourself off.
And get moving.
Another commonly used phrase that makes it seem as if getting up after a fall is quick and easy, or it "should" be. I've realized over the last year or so how much that word "should" has dictated my entire life. Too many times, I've convinced myself that I am a failure if I don't get back up immediately.
But I'm not a failure. And neither are you.
So why do we keep putting these expectations on ourselves?
I'm starting to think that we're missing a key piece of the famous phrase…
the whole "dust yourself off" part.
We get up and get going mainly because we have to, we force ourselves to do it even when we're not ready because our hustle, no-quitting-allowed culture has taught us to be good at that, but we forget about this key component…the dusting off.
When you fall, you're left with hurts and wounds, both seen and unseen. You're tired, you've been down in the dirt and as much as we'd love it if we could fall and get up unphased, it doesn't typically happen this way so we run ourselves ragged and end up having to deal with the repercussions later because we haven't allowed ourselves the time and space to rest and heal.
We can have all the grace in the world for others, and yet forget about giving ourselves that grace as well.
We forget that part of moving forward is allowing ourselves that time to dust off.
And I'd like to add another piece to this phrase before the "get back up."
What if we added this: "give yourself a moment. Rest, just lay there for a minute. Wallow."
Who says you have to get up right away?
I can't help but think of Lorelai Gilmore’s advice to her daughter, Rory, when after a break-up, Rory becomes obsessed with her to-do list. Lorelai says:
“Get back in your pajamas, go to bed, eat nothing but gallons of ice cream and tons of pizza, don’t take a shower or shave your legs or put on any makeup at all. Sit in the dark and watch a really sad movie and have a good cry and wallow, really wallow.” *
I imagine many of you read that quote and immediately started arguing with it.
"No, absolutely not. That's ridiculous. We have to move on. We have to get up and get moving again. We can't let life keep us down."
And I agree that we can't let life or other people keep us down, but also, maybe it's time we try Lorelai's advice and allow ourselves to wallow, taking whatever time we need.
Yes, I realize that the “shoulds” make us feel like we have to bounce back immediately like those bouncy balls we all loved to play with as kids (and maybe still do), but WE are not made of rubber. We're not bouncy balls. We're human.
WE are not made of rubber. We're not bouncy balls. We're human.
So what if we dropped the expectation that we have to bounce back? What if we gave ourselves just that moment to take a few deep breaths, rest, remind ourselves who we are, and remember our why?
What if we allowed ourselves to wallow?
But then…after we've wallowed…
We will get back up. We were never meant to stay down forever, and besides, that would mean the world would miss out on the beauty and the gift that is each of us, uniquely.
And more importantly, we'll get up because we are worthy of that and we owe it to ourselves.
But even after we get up, we'll take our time, and we'll dust ourselves off, and even if we're still a little shaky and afraid to take that first next step, we will get moving again because there's too much to see and experience in this journey called life for us to stay down forever.
And if you need a hand there to help you up, reach out and take one because even in those times we feel most alone, we rarely are; we just have to reach out, and there's no shame in doing just that.
Rest easy and travel well, friends.
P.S. I'm here if you need to reach out to someone, but I also hope you reach out to those close to you and find people there waiting with open, loving, non-judgmental hands to help you up…when you’re good and ready.
*Quote from Gilmore Girls Season 1, Episode 17: The Breakup: Part 2
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