For years now, people have told me what a strong person I am. When I hear that, it always makes me squirm uncomfortably. I feel like what others see is a lie, and there's nothing I despise more than liars. So, I typically respond with something about how I'm really not, etc. Then it feels like I'm deflecting in some facade of humility. That makes me uncomfortable too. I want to just accept it as a compliment and say thank you, but I don't know how to.
The truth is, I'm not the person everyone else seems to think I am. I'm really NOT strong, but I apparently do a pretty good job with that facade. Truth is, I'm weak. I'm scared. I'm sad. I'm making it up as I go. I feel like a complete failure in most areas of my life. I don't think I've been a very good parent. I often feel like we'd all be better off if I just stepped back and hid away from the world for a while. Don't worry, that's not self-harm talk in any way, just sometimes think it would be easier to escape. The problem, and what others see as strength, is that I'm not good at the retreat. Perhaps it's my bull-headed Taurus nature, but I tend to push through things until I can put it behind me. I don't know that it's strength any more than it is stubbornness.
I've always been a pretty independent person, thanks to my upbringing. I'm not afraid to do things by myself. I like to eat out by myself, go to the movies by myself, spend time with myself, and probably most of all, travel by myself. In fact, I most love traveling by myself because I don't have to worry about the mood, frustration, or boredom level of anyone else. While I would often enjoy sharing the beautiful places I've seen, being alone allows me to get in my own head and think through things. When I lived in Atlanta, I had season tickets to the Broadway shows, the ballet, and the opera. Many people thought it was weird that I went by myself. I never saw the need to wait around for someone else to do what I wanted. If I had, I would have missed out on a lot of things. When the boys and I decided to leave Ohio and move back to Texas, many told me I was so brave to quit my job, sell my home, and move without anything concrete to go to. I wasn't brave. I was scared to death!!! I had two kids to support and I had no job and no roof to put over their heads! What was I thinking? Well, once that ball was rolling, there was nothing else to do but roll with it. So brave, I don't know. When Asa and I drove out to Reno, Nevada, and back one summer a few years ago, people kept asking me who was going with me. I would say, Asa. What they meant was, "What male adult person is going with you?" None, I know how to read a map, fill up my gas tank, and all those nifty things that allow for a successful road trip. Again, strong and brave? No, I wanted to get there, and it was the only way, so I had to do it. Brave, strong, the things others see in me, but I'm not so sure.
Where I really tend to see the "Strength" card played is when it comes to Ethan. I once thought that ending a marriage would be the hardest thing I ever went through. Then, I thought getting a divorce from someone who also worked at the same small college in the same small town, would be the hardest thing I ever went through. It was hard hearing some of the comments from people who had no idea what was really going on. Surely, that will be the hardest thing I would ever have to go through, right? Wrong! That wasn't strength though. That was just coping. On the outside, people thought I was strong. Physically, I had a silent heart attack and later grew a grapefruit sized cyst in my right ovary. The surface, strong and coping. The internal stress manifests itself physically for me. I don't think I was strong.
Move forward a couple of years, past the divorce, after the big move, and on to Ethan. The first time I took him for treatment, I had a crying fit walking back to the car with his big shoes, which he couldn't have because he wasn't allowed to have shoe laces. Then, I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse! Well, you all know that it has, and has again, and again, and again. Some have said that I've handled these years with strength. No damn way! I trip and stumble constantly. I'm so scared, so sad, so there's much fear all the time. When I think I'm handling it ok, the realities of practical issues come crashing over me and all that discouragement and disappointment wash over me like a tidal wave. I suppose the fact that we're both still standing should be as a result of our strength, but can't feel it. It would imply that I'm coping well by choice. I'm coping by mere rote memory. I get up and do the same thing each day from memory. Inside, I'm a mess. The setbacks of the last few weeks are trying so hard to find a place to hide out in my gut, quite literally, so that I can ignore them and keep going. I'm out of room and it's now seeping over the edges. That's not strength. Inside, I can't think clearly anymore, I can't manage my finances well because there's always another chunk of money involved which I don't have. My health has suffered considerably. My work situation is hostile, aside from my students and amazingly supportive colleagues. None of this is strength. I'm crumbling rapidly lately.
I don't necessarily think we can judge our trials against those of another. If I say, "Well, a lot of people have it so much worse. My problems are petty," then I've fallen into the trap of judging. Yes, we all have our issues and they really can't be compared. What seems small to one will be huge to another. Comparison is judgmental. I try not to respond as above. With our problems, we all manage to cope and handle them. Some handle it well and others don't. That doesn't mean that one is strong and the other is weak. It's simply a different mechanism. So when someone says they could never be as strong as I have been, I squirm. I am not special or unique in this way. Maybe I'm better at hiding it, but I'm losing that skill too.
In the end, I still pray for strength every single day, even though I'm not really sure what it actually is.
