Just give it time.
Things will get better in time.
In good time.
You just need some time.
Whether you are physically or emotionally ‘broken’, this tends to be the type of advice handed down to you by the currently healthy and happy people in your life.
It’s hard to hear. It’s hard to believe.
It’s easy to retort with thoughts like, “But you’re not broken. You cannot understand how this pain feels. You do not know if it will get better. How can you tell me that?”
I am writing this now because I have been through it. I have experienced the pain and uncertainty of broken bones and a broken spirit.
And though, until recent time, I would have been the last person to have believed it, please know that time truly does heal all wounds.
In the past couple of years I have experienced what seemed to be an unsurmountable amount upheavel in my life. Throughout this time friends, family and co-workers continually repeated those cliche words of wisdom, “it will get better”. They would continue to promise me this whenever I expressed complete and utter hopelessness… and for awhile I have to admit I was convinced that everyone on this planet was a liar and had no idea the pain I was experiencing.
However, one important truth I have learned from all of this is that we have all, as human beings, suffered broken parts, whether they be broken bones or broken relationships.
And as human beings, we have the ability to recover.
The proof is in the pudding.
In terms of tangible physical injuries:
When I was 14 I broke both my Fibula and Tibia during a soccer game at the beginning of my season.
The E.R Doctor informed me I would most likely never play soccer again (jerk).
After months wrapped up in casts, hobbling around in crutches and being pushed around in a wheelchair, there was physio, the removal of the cast, then a pulled groin, and therefore even more physio…
At times when I was trapped in bed and just day dreaming about being able to walk up the stairs, I started to believe I would never be able to be the athlete I once was. My dreams of playing for Team Canada someday were drifting further and further away.
That’s when doctors and friends and family would give me the whole, “in good time” speech.
How dare they.
However, just maintining even a speck of hope and belief that it would get better at some point in time, kept me going and with every day that passed, it was a tiny bit better than the day before.
I was able to return to the sport I loved by the following season and ended up playing for about five more years before having to give it up for school and work and other unexpected life events.
Never could I have imagined the path my life would take and the passion and fufilliment I would later find in a sport that some of you might have heard of…Roller Derby. And another chance at that coveted Team Canada dream.
In terms of emotinal injury, loss and the broken heart, I have this experience to share…
Just a months ago my perspective on love was this:
“I have loved. And lost. The results are that I am perpetually confused, sad and anxious. I have allowed myself to love and lose and love again and lose again. I am reaching the conclusion that I really don’t want to keep doing that. I’d rather be alone for the remainder of my years than to torture myself with the ongoing of relationships which require feelings of absolute desperation, self-doubt and the questioning of who I truly am.
Currently I have delved in to my writing in hopes in hopes of gaining some understanding, forgiveness and self-reflection. I am hoping I can pull myself out of this melancholy existence.
I know that life is a beautiful gift and that things could be worse, so much worse. However, I just feel like life could be a lot less complicated without love. Feelings just end up hurting. Or even worse…turning into numbness. I am numb.
I want a simple existence. I want to have a good head on my shoulders. I want to feel happiness and make other people in my life happy. I feel like I just keep failing everyone.
Sure, heartache inspires art and is a universal experience, however it is also extremely fucking painful.
FLASH FORWARD to RIGHT NOW and I can tell you this:
I am hopeful. I am excited. I am terrified, but I am ready and willing to keep trying.
Sure, life is potentially a bit simpler without the involvement of emotion or the consideration of other human beings, however it is also a lot less exciting. I want to live my life to the fullest. Part of that is learning from past mistakes, appreciating every lesson, and trying again. It is about not ‘banking’ on something when it doesn’t turn out. Because you never know where the path you are on is going to take you, and who might be waiting around the next corner. The dreams you had that now seem no longer possible can change, will change, into new dreams, different dreams, better dreams.
Scars are beautiful. They tell a story. They are proof that you are a survivor. Scaped knees, stitches, dents and painful memories only provide proof that you, my friend, have lived, taken risks, and allowed yourself to be vulnerable.
So do it again. Go ahead and jump! As high as you can! Trip, fall down, fall hard, and get back up. Dust yourself off, take however long it takes to nurse your wounds, and then get out there and try again.
It just keeps getting better. Just give it some time.