I was crouched into a fetal position on the floor in my studio apartment. I cried so hard that I was shaking and it felt like the tears would never stop pouring. No hope. No meaning. And I didn’t even know why I was crying, only that it felt like I had a big void inside of me. A void that was aching terribly. That void where my heart used to sit. Pounding with joy for life and dreams about the future. Now there was no joy and no hope about life. That it would change for the better. Only a cold floor sticky from salty tears. I felt so listless, unable to do anything. I felt such an emptiness inside of me, echoing throughout my body. The fear of it eating me alive. The fear of it never feeling any different, that I would have to stay in the emptiness forever. Eventually I manage to get myself off the floor and crawl into bed to sleep thinking that maybe, maybe it will feel a bit better tomorrow.
I remember that feeling so well, to be crouched up in total despair. Feeling so lonely with my pain. Confused and full of shame when not even being able to explain why tears keep pouring. To not even know what to say if I would’ve called someone. How would I explain myself when emotions well up and I have no idea where they come from? When the emotional storm is over and you’re left with silence, emptiness and stolidity. All I wanted was to go to sleep and wake up to a different life. A life where I could feel the joy in small things, the love I give and receive and gratitude for everything that makes me happy in life.
I did go to sleep and woke up to a different life. It really didn’t happen overnight, but it happened and for that I will be forever grateful. Grateful I didn’t give up, that I received the help to keep going forward and managed to get myself up from the floor and from that dark place I was in. Just as little as I then understood why I felt so terribly unhappy, I now sometimes can’t comprehend why I feel such an immense joy. A sense of joy that fills me up on the inside, that spread like a silly smile all over my face, makes my eyes sparkle and can light up a whole room. A sense of joy like pure euphoria that fills me up with laughter and an urge to sing and dance even though I don’t really know how to and probably look completely ridiculous while doing it. But I really couldn’t care less. Nothing can wreck that wonderful feeling.
Being a highly sensitive person means I get the full spectrum of emotions, good and bad. Throughout the years I’ve learned to appreciate the contrasts and I’ve realized that I would never experience that intense happiness THAT intensely if I didn’t know how it feels to be down at the bottom. Crouched into a fetal position covered in salty tears. Regardless of whether you are highly sensitive or not I’ve realized that in order to truly experience that deep intense happiness, I need to have experienced actual suffering. Not until then I will know the difference between the two and be able to appreciate those little moments of extreme happiness. For example I’ve never felt so happy being able to walk as after having been wheelchair-bound for six weeks or to have found myself again and that inner peace and joy after such a long time feeling unhappy and broken due to unresolved trauma.
Life and our emotions go up and down like on a heart rate monitor, if it goes flat it means you’re dead. Obviously not literally in this context, moreso stuck on autopilot without actually feeling, without truly living fully. The bigger contrast between “up” and “down” the more intense feelings. Feelings of suffering, but also of happiness. So if you stay “in the middle” you won’t experience happiness as intensely because the distance between up and down isn’t that far.
Suffering is a part of life. It’s never enjoyable to be in it, but we can choose to look at suffering from a more constructive perspective. See how suffering can teach us, guide us, give fresh insight, make us more humble and grateful, help us create new changes in life etc. I choose to accept that life sucks sometimes, but I also choose to believe that it won’t always be that way and that life can be amazingly wonderful as well. Sometimes I can’t affect the situation, but I can always affect my attitude and what I choose to do afterwards. It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters and sometimes desperation leads to inspiration.
[Photo: Climbing mountains and enjoying the view from the top in Milford Sounds, New Zealand 2018]
Do you need help to change negative and destructive thought patterns into more positive and constructive ones? Maybe mental coaching is that step in the right direction that you need. Contact me for more information or to book a session.