I was thinking this morning about the two huge crises going on in my life right now.
My closest friends have been such kind and compassionate sounding boards.
But these two crises are stagnant—the struggle is overwhelming with both, but there is nothing changing about either one. Same story, different day. I wake up exhausted and wanting to go back to bed—before I even get out of bed.
Of course, the repercussions of a pandemic, like social isolating and more time at home, have only made my current life feel more bleak.
I wish I could tell you more about the crises, but I seriously don’t know if I could do it authentically without slighting the main culprits. So I’m going to err on the side of respect. But I will give the below analogies to paint a picture.
One crisis feels like a friend dragged me to a concert, where we have front row seats and I am forced to have music blaring at me that I don’t like. I want to leave, but I can’t. Not only would it be mean to my friend who wants to stay for the entire concert, but my friend is my ride and I can’t realistically find a way out. I love my friend. I can’t stand this concert, though.
The other crisis feels like being stuck on an elevator with annoying elevator music. It’s in the background, but it’s always there. I can’t get away from this low volume, yet ever present, bed of music that is repetitive and tedious and distracting. I hear this music when I wake up and it’s still playing when I go to bed. Trying to ignore it seems to just make it more persistent.
So back to my headline. I get why people isolate when they’re struggling, especially with ongoing challenges that aren’t improving. I’m in no way championing isolation, mind you. We all need safe sounding boards, and I have a few friends who would win gold medals if being a sounding board was an Olympic sport.
I’m simply acknowledging that I understand how isolation happens.
I find myself sick of hearing myself speak about these two situations in my life. Sometimes I simply lose track of which details I have shared. One crisis in particular sounds like it could have only come out of Hollywood—it has that many twists and turns and difficult-to-follow story lines.
I know my closest friends are faithful, though. I know they want to be supportive. Fortunately, they take me where I’m at—whether I want to talk or don’t want to talk. I seriously don’t know what I would do without them.
If you are someone who has been in the midst of a long-suffering struggle for what feels like forever, hear my heart. I get why you isolate at times. My hope is, though, that any isolation you go into doesn’t become your permanent way of coping.
It’s vital that we have a couple of safe confidantes who help make our difficult journeys more bearable. Though my circumstances don’t necessarily change after talking to a safe friend, I do feel heard. And there is something to be said for feeling heard.
For more reading on having a safe confidante, check out this post.
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