A Painful Night

Weeping Nude. Edvard Munch

It had been some time since everything fell apart. Lucy sat on the floor of her apartment next to the bookshelf. She breathed in deeply with her hands on her chest.

“Where are you, God, Universe, Love, somebody, anybody?”

Lucy touched her head to the back of the wall as the emotions gushed forth from within her. First came Sadness and tears. She felt it in her stomach and heart. She remembered reading some book from a Buddhist monk where he compared letting emotions be and happen and treating them like crying children. She held her sadness with her as delicately as newborn babe. She gave it all her attention. Then came Anger to comfort and defend and fight for Sadness.

“Why are you punishing me, God? Why won’t you just help me, let things work out for me? Haven’t I been through enough? I am just so tired. Please make this stop. I can’t anymore. Please please please make it stop.”

It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it? Lucy just couldn’t understand it. It’s like she was sitting still experiencing joy and things were working out one moment and then suddenly out of nowhere life just fell apart and she was left sitting in the wreckage confused and not understanding what had just happened. And she knew this wasn’t in a single moment but over the course of years but her perception of time had become completely skewed.

“I am just one person. I have never hurt anyone so why was I hurt why did you let that vile, sick parasite hurt me, God. Please help me. I don’t know what to do and I am scared.”

She went inside herself and met her inner child, her younger self and held her, felt her head on her left shoulder. She comforted herself and her inner child. She had to be strong for her. She was the reason she was still living, still trying. That little girl who was so scared and so alone deserved and deserves better. She still has dreams she needs to accomplish. She had promised her little girl to take her to Paris and sit in a café with a beret and to meet her puppies whom she will love and adore with all the love her innocent little heart can make.

They say pressure makes diamonds. She tried to make diamonds inside her stomach. It helped somewhat to think of all the pains she didn’t have in this moment and what she was grateful for. At least we are healthy. At least we still have our home, at least we love ourselves and respect ourselves, at least we have our beautiful green couch to rest on, at least we have our books as constant friends and a refuge, at least in this moment right here right now we are safe. At least we have our safety and dignity. At least we have food in the fridge. At least we have a bed whose warm and cozy embrace lulls us to sleep every night. At least we have our beautiful perfect little white coffee cup. At least we can take a warm bath. At least dogs exist and lavender and jasmine too. At least we can read and write. At least we have these inner riches and power within us to overcome this difficult moment right now. At least the sun will shine tomorrow and bless us with its warmth and light. At least we have peace and quiet and no one who makes it worse. At least we are not trapped with broken damaged people we hate. At least our heart is still beating. Is there anything more innocent and hopeful than the human heart that continues beating and doing its job nobly, kindly, diligently, lovingly. “My heart loves me, my body loves me. My home loves me. This too shall pass.” The thought that we suffer more in imagination, in and through our perceptions and interpretations and our body’s response came to mind. The stress was creating cascades of anxiety that were rippling through her.

“Breathe. Just breathe. We will get through this. We will figure this out. We have figured out and been through worse pain in the past. We will figure this out too. There is still good in the world. There is still good in us.”

Her inner child came up again and laid her head on her shoulder. “It will be okay, mommy. We’ll be okay.”