Dr. Pennebaker, a psychology professor who applies physiological research to the benefits of writing, claims that writing increases your immune system and ups your psychological well-being.
But I write because it is the only way I can make sense of my over-sensitivity to human suffering, sadness and even sometimes abundance of joy. I write because at the end of a complete thought is resolution.
Right now, I am writing out of an enormous amount of pain for another person, my step dad. When my mom called me to let me know that he was being put on a ventilator in ICU, I began to envision what that would be like. So, as we packed the car and planned the details, I created this picture of walking in and hugging him and talking with the other family members in his room.
I was shocked to round the corner and see a once vibrant man with his head taped pointing up to the ceiling with tubes uncomfortably coming out of his mouth and bruising all over his collar bone. Swollen hands strapped to the bed with glassed over eyes still begging for a fight. As he struggles, my heart begins to break.
I don't want to selfishly assume that I am the only girl in the whole, wide world that has been given the witnessing of two dads suffering beyond what I thought was imaginable with today's modern medicine. I don't want to assume that I am the only person that empathizes with fighters. I can walk into a pet store and cry for the dogs batting at their cage begging for someone to get them out. I know I am one of many to feel these trials of human struggle.
How do I make sense of this? How do I complete this thought to get resolution with this tattooed image of anguish? I fear I cannot.
My default is quickly becoming what is real. The Lord is my Shepherd, He leads me.... - and beg for Him to lay those suffering souls by the calm waters.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment