Breathe, Shake, Let It Go

Yes, I quoted Mase in my title. He may have been a corrupt hip hop artist turned preacher but the words make sense.

You see, since June, when I was given some relieving news, news that allowed me to decompress, to stop worrying, at least temporarily, I also was able to breathe again for the first time in a long time. If we're being honest, I breathed again since this time last summer, before I got pregnant with an ill-fated pregnancy and before my life became out of my own control. Since mid-June of this year I have slowly allowed myself to take deep breaths and relax a little.

Since then I have "pang" moments. Moments when I am somehow reminded of the pain I endured or moments where I allow myself to perseverate briefly. And then there are the moments where someone else gets good news that I am not eligible for and I have to swallow the "pang" of hurt and smile for them. Eventually, I do feel genuine happiness for them but first, before I can get there, I have to work through how their news reminds me of what I've lost and how I have suffered.

When that happens I take such solace now in the good things in my life that I have learned to revel in- my little house, my peaceful evenings with the pups, my job, although stressful is also such a blessing that keeps me connected to the word and makes me feel needed and purposeful. The fact that I have nothing keeping me from enjoying this amazing city on a summer night with my husband- taking in restaurant week and going to the dog park. All of these things bring me true happiness and I use them to battle the "pangs."

And you know what? I have allowed myself to absorb all those good things lately. During the last 6 months I knew that those good things were there but I was so blinded by my pain and fear that I could not truly enjoy them. Now I can. And I do. I don't pretend to, I really actually truly do. I am starting to let go of the fear that if I allow myself to enjoy something, it will somehow come back and bite me. That if I allow myself to be happy, I am not doing service to my loss and my grief. I have realized that it isn't fair to expect myself to waste my life wallowing in my pain. It forever changed me but that doesn't mean I can't still enjoy life's blessings where I can.

There is one other thing that I think made a huge difference in my ability to "shake it off." In one disgusted moment, I deleted my facebook account. I was so sick of constantly comparing myself to others and having Internet access to a parade of "my life is perfect" was hurting me. I also became disenchanted with how people do not post their truths on facebook. I know I am not the only one going through life's port-o-pot, but facebook sure made it seem like it. Everywhere I turned people were salving their wounds by posting pictures of their perfect houses or their perfect bodies or perfect relationships or announcing major milestones, etc. I drank that kool-aid for far too long until it started tasting spoiled. Honestly, I needed to detox myself from the endless stream of fakery and once I did, it was so refreshing!

No longer was I constantly exposing myself to endless self-promotion that ultimately played into my own insecurities. It was as if I had shined a light on one of the monsters in my closet and scared it away. I felt...lighter. My life was so much simpler. I took pictures because I WANTED THE PICTURE not because it would be a "good post" on facebook. I started to see myself in a true way, not  how I would appear on some one's newsfeed. I started to see friends not as an online profile but as a genuine person. Most importantly, I stopped comparing myself to the impossible perfection of what people were posting on facebook. Cue the breathing and the relaxing and the happiness.

If you have even the slightest inkling of simplifying your life, I recommend getting off "fake book." It truly helps.

Needless to say, eliminating facebook and simplifying how I interacted in the world was just one thing that helped me start to breathe again. I am sure that the good news from June also helped me along as well. But I think I had finished a lot of my processing and grieving and was just...ready to live again.

Last week my husband and I went to dinner during restaurant week and on our way out of the restaurant we saw some friends. I happily greeted them and remember thinking how I was genuinely happy in that moment- it was a beautiful night, we ran into good company, and I had just eaten a great meal. I then had a fleeting moment of panic- I wonder if they are thinking about what happened to me? Are they thinking I am acting too happy for what happened? Will anyone ever think of me normally again or will I forever wear the mark of what happened everywhere I go? I am still defined by what happened?...

Immediately my moment of happiness was once again threatened by what happened in November. But then, in the words of Mase, I decided to "breathe, shake, let it go." Who cares if I wear a scarlet letter because I am now the poster girl for miscarriage? I am "shaking it off." I am "letting it go." I am "simplifying." I am becoming...better. So if all they see when they look at me is my failures and my shortcomings, that's fine. Because I am starting to NOT see them anymore. And that's all that matters.

Breathe. Shake. Let it go. Wise words on my path to recovery. All thanks to Mase and Puff Daddy. Fitting;)