It’s been raining in the Napa Valley. And raining… and raining… and raining. It’s been cold, too. April in California this year was the 12th coldest in the 113 years anyone has been keeping records. And just when I thought it was over, it rained most of May as well. It even hailed, turning CiCi’s Garden momentarily into a winter postcard!
Coupled with the unseasonably cold and wet weather, lately I have had bouts of sadness that linger without any apparent immediate cause. I’ve wondered if barometric pressure is to blame, or maybe it’s what’s going on in our world. Our nation is being crushed under the weight of a massive 14 trillion dollar debt. Maybe it’s learning that the 1,000th young American serviceman just died in southern Afghanistan. Easily it could be watching the most horrific environmental disaster the United States has ever faced worsen every day with 20 million (and counting) gallons of crude oil spilling into the Gulf of Mexico and devastating more than 70 miles of Louisiana’s coastline and wildlife habitat.
It gets far more personal when trouble hits home –literally. Our mortgage is upside-down and CiCi’s Garden may be in jeopardy! Perhaps, like so many others, I am suffering with a light case of low-grade depression. However, since I have an ongoing love affair with life and its simple joys, I usually bounce back quickly. I rarely entertain the creeping anxiety that waits like a plague for those who succumb to their miseries by habitually wondering, “Will I ever be happy?” It’s made me have to stop and retrace my steps.
My Blog is dedicated to exploring how to work through the residual effects women often experience as a result of being a survivor of child abuse or neglect, domestic violence, or any other trauma or loss –even years after her life has become “normal”. One of those residual effects for me is sadness, often coupled with vague feelings of guilt when I can’t fix a troubling situation –leftovers from a troubled childhood. The real problem arises when I am driven to find something I CAN fix, or think I can fix. This derailment can lead to detours and wasted years because, unfortunately, the psychology of this sort of thing can lead a woman to subconsciously seek out other unfixable situations, or in my case narcissistic or otherwise emotionally unavailable men.
It has to stop somewhere. For me, I stopped trying to fix unfixable things –or more accurately, I am in a continual process of learning how to let things BE. When it is raining I may dance in it rather than hoist an umbrella. Figuratively or otherwise.
Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain. ~Author Unknown
And who knows? A lovely rainbow may surprise you, like the one I caught on my iPhone from my car window when leaving work a few weeks ago.
I invite you, dear reader, to share with me and other readers how you or someone you know has dealt with any residual effects leftover from being a survivor of trauma.