Summer of Surrender

"...running with perseverance the race that is set before us..."

~Hebrews 12:1-3~

How do I begin to put into words what I experienced this summer?

This is something I have been struggling to put into words for quite some time now.  Apparently inspiration to finally start putting words to it happens at 2:19am when most sane people are sleeping.

I won't lie- this has not been an easy year for me.  I think it may be one of the hardest years thus far in my young adult life.  One was when my parents went back and forth from Chicago every other week for my dad's cancer treatments, and the other was the year my dad left this world.  The way my 2019 started sort of set the stage for how my summer went, at least in the way it affected my mental health during the summer months.  It's very difficult to go back down memory lane because the memories still feel painful albeit less raw than they were.  I'm currently in the messy healing process and I've got scars.  To be honest, tears are likely to be falling as I write.

To go back a little in time, May was drawing to a close and I had recently moved for the third time this year.  I had also been actively looking for a summer job, as well as looking forward to being free of my boss who through various circumstances and happenings caused me severe anxiety.  It was a stressful working environment and it severely affected my mental health- I don't think it's normal to have terrible anxiety every time you see your boss.  That alone made it difficult to focus and to function.  Add to that the stress of having to move so many times along with certain events taking place over the last half a year and you get a person who is a barely functioning human.  I had almost shut down by the time the end of May rolled around.

The school year ended and I still was no closer to landing a job I so desperately needed.  Each day was a struggle in forcing myself to sit down and apply to anything and everything.  Many days the most I succeeded in doing was getting up, dressing, and feeding myself.  Not much else happened those days.  On those days I would sit staring at my computer screen willing myself to do what I so desperately needed to do- I could not bring myself to do the thing I needed to do because I felt very overwhelmed.  I felt ashamed of myself.  Why was I struggling so hard to just apply?  Why was I struggling so hard to reach out?  Why was it so hard to ask for help?  How could I change being so isolated and alone?  No matter how hard I thought about those things no lasting answers yet presented themselves.  It's not that I didn't try- I did my best in applying to jobs when I could, reached out to people when I had the energy to, asked for monetary help when I knew I wasn't going to make it to the end of the summer without it, and ultimately ended up being burnt out and wanting to give up asking for any kind of human connection.  It was terribly difficult for me to open up about what was going on which I'm sure didn't help my situation at all.

It was lucky I lived somewhere at the time that had an outdoor pool and a park that was only a 10 minute walk away.  I did so much walking this summer!  I also swam quite a bit.  They were activities I'd do when I oftentimes felt myself slipping into a dark place.  Physical activity helped give me life and helped with my mental health so much.  It's lucky and rather interesting I was injured when I was and not during the summer.  I'm not sure what I would have done.

Something happens to our minds and bodies when we don't have our basic needs met and/or have no money left in our bank accounts.  It's as though we sort of shut down and go into survival mode where we only do the absolute minimum to get by- no more, no less.  We cease to have the energy for anything other than basic day to day functions.  Interacting with people becomes harder because we feel ashamed of where we're at so we don't speak up.  We feel as though we will be judged if we talked about our situation.  It's very difficult to ask for help.  There were times when attempts were made- I reached out when I was able to and even the little bit of interaction I received from emails or the all too brief times of human connection on the weekends at Highlands and Left Hand helped in more ways than I can say.  I always made sure I had the money to be able to get myself to church because it was the only times during my weeks where I could connect with people, however short.  The long treks on the bus were worth it.  If I'm being honest I think that is part of the reason I didn't altogether give up on life.

Yes, you read that right- I felt like giving up.  I wanted out from the pain and isolation I was feeling.  I cried no less than three times at week, sometimes more than once a day.  Some days I felt nothing and it was bliss.  I began to wonder if anybody would miss me if one day I wasn't there.  It felt like death, the amount of despair I would feel some days.  I think one of the only things that kept me going was hope for the future and the hope it would one day get better.  For the longest time I didn't want to admit even to myself that this is how I felt- I know I should have told someone, especially my therapist, but I felt ashamed, and I still feel ashamed if I'm being honest.

I felt incredibly isolated from people because of having no money and for a few days, no real way to get around because I couldn't even afford a bus pass.  To me, it felt the only way I would be able to connect with my friends was to go out and do something- but again, having no money I felt frustrated.  I wanted them to come to me.  But I royally struggle with saying what it is I want or need.  I'm working on it and I'm getting better at it.  Advocacy for our own selves is so hard- much easier to advocate for others.  There were a few weeks when I was unable to meet with my therapist and it definitely took a toll.  The day I started my second job was the day I started to gain some more life back into me.  It was huge.  It was a big deal.  And it only took most of the summer!

The end of July was my fourth move of the year and I was so exhausted.  When I got to go into the mountains to take part in the Left Hand summer camp it gave me some much needed life.  It was enough to help get me through the last bit of my summer and through a bout of strep throat.  That wasn't fun.  Neither was acquiring a sprained ankle and a slightly sprained knee.  I didn't let those things keep me down though- I laughed through them and by that point could begin to see a glimpse of where the divine had been at work.

I call this my Summer of Surrender because of what I learned.  I had to learn how to ask for help and how to reach out to others and let them know what I needed, because there was no way in heck I was going to make it to the end of the summer months without that help.  Learning to be more open about what was going on and learning to feel what I was feeling and sometimes still feel has taken another kind of surrender, the kind of surrender that is openness and vulnerability.  That one was particularly challenging.  I learned too how to completely give up any kind of control I had left and give it all to the divine because there was nothing left for me to cling to- the divine was all I had left and She was the one who was going to take care of me and bring me through this wasteland.  Giving up control is so so so hard.  Trusting is hard.  Asking for help is hard.

The thing is, I would do it all again because there are certain lessons one can only be taught by going through and traveling through these wastelands.  There are things that can only be learned by being lost.  You will not learn them anywhere else.

This was my Summer of Surrender.