It’s easy to see that life is long and hard. That’s a matter of perspective everyone can relate to, especially when one is deep and heavy into a shitstorm. Even those people for whom things are going well can see the shitstorms of others and remember their own.
Remember when that shit happened to you, and it was super shitty and you thought you’d never get through that shit?
The pain, the betrayal, the injustice, the loss?
Yeah, me too.
Can you believe we made it through that?!
We can’t see the end of the shitstorms. We can’t tell how bad they’re going to get, or how long they’re going to last. Never, ever, never ever ever ask what else can go wrong, because you will be shown.
I have begun to realize there are signs of the shitstorm’s impending doom. I’m not sure about y’all, but I do better in the actual shitstorm than I do waiting for it. This is why, like all expert level anxiety sufferers, I constantly wait for shitstorms, and other things that do not make sense.
What I want to do is run for the hills, close-up shop, and wait for them to pass. Running is my first instinct.
This is extremely ineffective, by the way. I was four when I learned that hiding away wouldn’t make it go any faster. I studied the legs of the dining table, a dark laminate, very Mid-Century, with brass feet. Had it been twice as big and made of solid wood, it would not have been able to prevent my parents’ divorce or to keep me from hearing their argument.
For most of my life, I’ve tried pretending shitstorms weren’t there. Denial is a happy place. It’s one of my favorite places. Denial can be aided greatly by distance. Distance also being one of my favorites. There’s nothing like not answering the phone or moving 800 miles away and then not answering the phone.
For that matter, even if you do pick up the phone, most people don’t even want to talk about the shitstorms. They like to pretend, too. Sometimes they like the distance, too, even when they pretend they don’t.
Oh how exhausting. So exhausting to play nice-nice…
‘They’ say people like me have a door-slam tendency, but I’ve always thought of it like a faucet. If you run too hot or too cold, I’ll shut you off like a faucet. I’ll get my distance, dammit.
For some time in my younger years, I developed a nasty aggressive disposition for facing the shitstorms head-on. I can still do that, as needed. I don’t like to do it. It’s forced and unnatural, but if I have to confront shit, I can do it with ferocity and most importantly, without tact.
And not a single feeling was spared that day…
For about a decade in adulthood, I developed a deep understanding of muddling through shitstorms. Muddling through is also exhausting, but there is a certain power in maintaining momentum. There is this sorta idea that if you’re a tornado, and never stop moving, then the shitstorms can’t touch you. I muddled through one thing after another until my brain got plumb tuckered out.
So, what other choices are there?
“Let go and let God.”
“Be in the now.”
“Worry won’t change the outcome.”
“Dawn will come.”
“This too shall pass.”
“You can’t see it now, but it’s for the best.”
“It’s God’s will.”
Mind you, all those clichés offer the path of least resistance. Shitstorms can’t wear you out, because you’re passive in the matter.
Sounds too simple, doesn’t it? And don’t you have some personal responsibility in the shitstorms of your life? Surely riding it out makes you a coward…
Desiderata and Serenity Prayer-ish stuff do help, but I feel like I need more.
There’s certainly truth in bad things being the best, but usually we don’t see that for a long time after.
I like the little fortune teller on Animal Crossing…
This one’s really good. I love this one.
And then one day some wisdom came to me. Someone wrote it, someone said it, somehow it got into my brain and my brain was changed forever.
As soon as this information hit my brain, I recognized its truth.
I am the motherfucking sky.
Be the sky.
What’s your truth and wisdom on shitstorms?