It was a good day! I am being contracted to construct some clothing and costumes, and I landed a job interview! Yes!! On top of that, I had an unexpected and appreciated mid-afternoon conversation with a good friend, and was fortunate to have it be women’s meeting night at my house. Truly, the day couldn’t have gotten any better unless I’d actually been offered a job. As I sat in my living room this evening discussing the realities of my current existence with three extremely astute and honest women, I couldn’t help but realize how lucky I am to have them and the rest of my circle of friends in my life – both the light and the dark of it, as well as the gray area.
Other than right now, there have only been two other times in my life when I felt the clutching hands of my “dark place” pulling at me; urging me into its yawning chasm. That first time, unaware and unprepared and incapable of phrasing questions, I entered that dark place alone and stayed there until a glimmer of light and hope showed me the (arduous, painful) way out. The second time was quite short-lived thanks to my friends and their remarkably generous and giving natures. While I hadn’t shared much with them, they paid attention, saw, heard, and acted.
Now, standing once again at the edge of the darkness and feeling its magnetic pull, I am able to tell my friends where I am, what it looks like, and how it feels. It’s not pretty and, in fact, it’s pretty scary. But I stand at the edge and I look at that darkness long and hard, because it has to be dealt with. There is fear and pain in the darkness; there is my naked truth. It’s all there waiting to be washed off and viewed appropriately, and then let go; a daunting prospect.
The difference between that first time and now is my ability to share and to articulate. I’ve come far enough since then that I can expose some of the darkness and articulate its presence and the resultant tremors beneath my feet. The difference between then and now is that all my friends are standing there with me, just behind me, encouraging me to do the work that has to be done and assuring me that they are there to greet me when I return, or even to pull me out if need be.
So as I stand there – here; as I stand here, waiting, testing the darkness, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I can do this. I know that I can confront that darkness and my demons (fear of my state of joblessness, for one) and, in doing so, force them to relinquish their control over me and force me to relinquish my attempt to control – well – everything. With that done, I can step back into the light and bask in the warm rays of hope awaiting me.
I can do this … with a little help from my friends. And I greatly wish that everyone could have the level of support system I am fortunate enough to be a part of.
