Growing Pains

It's Spring, dear readers! Things are blooming and transitioning and love is in the air! So why do I feel so fucking awkward and unsettled? I hope I'm not alone here. Actually, I hope I am because this really fucking sucks. 

I'm currently in this weird state where it seems like everything's changing, yet everything stays the same. I think I may be having withdrawals from therapy. Yes, the sessions with my amazing therapist have ended as the nonprofit counselling office gives you a certain amount of sessions to help you on your way. While I am super grateful, I feel like I need more help...or do I? 

Maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe I'm just too damn scared to realize that I actually have the skills to get myself through this, that I have what it takes to be ok. I can't believe that I just said that because let me tell you, my mind has been crafting another story. It's one of those boring old tales about how I'm not good enough and not strong enough and that I'm never going to be happy. 

The thing is, even though I know that those nasty thoughts aren't the truth, sometimes it's almost easier to give up and just accept what's being said. At least it's something I'm used to. Change is hard. It's awkward and uncomfortable and scary as all hell, but it's necessary. I know this and yet I still want to hang the towel at the end of the hockey stick (shoutout to Roger Neilson, RIP).

But here's the thing about that towel. It became a major inspiration. I'm sure many of you know the story about Roger, then Canucks' head coach, hanging a white towel at the end of a stick to symbolize a surrender to the refs for the lopsided officiating, and the Canucks fans showing up to the next game waving white towels (yes, that's where it all began, but of course the terrible towel came first #Steelers). Long story short, the Canucks won that series against the Blackhawks and ended up reaching their first Stanley Cup Final. Sure, they got swept by the Islanders, but who's keeping score? The point is, surrender doesn't have to be a bad thing.
​​

A statue of the late great Roger Neilson outside Roger's Arena in Vancouver

I was just getting emotional about the Canucks, then noticed Ryan Kesler's face on the flag in the image above. Haha. Bye, bitch! Anyway, back to the Canucks. There's a reason why they come to mind as I write this blog post. Earlier this month, Daniel and Henrik Sedin retired and it has me all broken up inside. I was upset when I heard the news, no question, but watching their final game was gutting. I fucking bawled. Like, ugly cried through the entire game. Snotted everywhere. I sobbed. I felt like a kid. A kid whose cat just died, and everyone is talking about how wonderful the cat was, but I'm like, COME BACK, KITTY!!!

Look at these goofy kids! I remember the day they were drafted so well. It was such a cool moment. The Sedins ended up being the best players we've ever had. I'm crying. I can't help it. I just keep crying. It's just so hard to accept but I have to accept it. I chatted with a friend and fellow Canucks fan about it, and he agreed that it was like watching a part of ourselves disintegrate before our eyes. It was quite painful, really. But it needed to happen. Watching that game and shedding those tears was like therapy in a sense. I was fully engaged with my emotions and wasn't trying to hold anything back. All of my feelings were flooding out. My fears, my heartache, my memories were running down my face with my mascara. 

The Sedins' retirement was a stark reminder of the fact that things cannot stay the same. Life is fluid and we have to keep moving. People get older and their needs change as they go through the different stages of their lives, and then they die. We die. I swear I won't be so morbid in my next post. Actually, I probably will. Anyway, the day before the Sedins' last game, my friend's four year old daughter turned to me and said "Kenna, do you know that when you get really old you die?" I told her that I did know and that it's a good thing we're not really old, because that means we probably won't die anytime soon. But what I didn't tell her is that sometimes I feel really old. Like, old enough to die. But I think that's probably because I am just so run down and exhausted from fighting. 

See, I'm going through a major period of transition in my life and I'm kinda stumbling around with a clunky heaviness as the whole process seems so unnatural. I feel actual physical pain from the whole thing, and I keep getting sick. I'm starting to realize something, though. Maybe these physical symptoms are rooted in my mental struggles. What if I just let go? What happens when you give in and just let whatever is be? What if I were to stop struggling altogether and surrender? That's a lot of what ifs, but maybe there's something there. Also, perhaps if we start being gentle and kind to ourselves and just let our feelings be--dare to sit with them for a while--we will begin to understand ourselves more. Maybe even love ourselves. Maybe if I treated myself with the tenderness and compassion of an inch worm on my fingernail I'd be better off.
​
Alright, things are getting corny over here, folks. But what if I'm right? What if I just sat here and cried a while longer? What would be the harm in that? I don't have plans tonight, anyway.