There's a song by the Bee Gees with the above title. How can you mend a broken heart? It's a good question. One that I think deserves an answer. How do you heal from grief? I don't think you can. It's just something that you carry with you. It's like a stone in your chest. Sometimes it's small, other times it grows so heavy that you can't breath.
It was one of those days for me. I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream about my parents. We were in our old house on Knight Road. My parents were happily together. My brother and sister were putting up decorations and my mom was in the kitchen cooking. My dad was outside cleaning up the yard. I was there too. However, no one could see me. Every time I called out to them, no one answered. They were all happy and laughing and talking, but I wasn't included. Slowly, it dawned on me that I was a shade. It was if I had never been. It was a happy family of four.
I woke up at 4:30 am wondering where I was, who I was. I realized that I was in my room in Georgia. My parents gone, and there was no happy family. So, I got up and went to the bathroom. Then I went and smoked a cigarette on the porch, trying to figure out what the dream meant. I went back to bed and fell asleep. I had two hours before my alarm went off at 6:30.
The dream I fell into is familiar. I am standing in a wood while a fierce hurricane swirled around me. I saw the faces of my family. Again and again, I called out to them, but no one could hear me. I could hear my mom calling for me, but could not go to her. The winds were so fast. So, I stood there, screaming. I woke up with a powerful headache trying to decide if I wanted to get out of bed. Eventually, I did because I had to take the dog to day care. But the rest of the day I was disconnected and sad. Then the song came on in our processing group. Not the Bee Gees song, but another song that someone chose as there goodbye to the group song. It made me think of my parents and I started to cry.
The lyrics were powerful. I felt a surge of grief rush upon me, and I wept. God, I want my mom. I want my dad. I'm still not okay. I've come a way, but I don't think it's been long enough. How long will it be before I stop hurting? When will my broken heart mend? I'm tired of hearing that think of happy memories, I do. I'm sick of people who say they understand. No you don't! This is MY pain, my grief, my pain, my heart!
I think being bipolar amplifies one's emotions to a higher level of feeling. We don't just get angry, we rage inside. We don't just get happy, we become overly happy to the point of mania at times. Sadness runs deep cutting us apart inside. I have put the pieces back together so many times, I don't know if I can mend my heart again. It's just too hard. Who'll show me how? I suppose I must lay it at God's feet and let Him take over. Today, I am tired. I need to rest. I need to learn how to just be. Problem is I never learned how to just be. Adulting sucks. I want to climb into bed with my parents again as a little girl. I felt safe there. I was young and my heart whole. I can't make it whole again on my own. It's too difficult. I don't know how to mend a broken heart. Who'll show me how?
Peace, Joy, Love - B
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