My first heartbreak was terrible. For days I was a somnambulist, in a stupor, drugged and immune to any rational voices that came my way. Nothing mattered and no one would understand. My heart was broken and I physically ached, in my head, my heart, my hands, legs and my entire torso. I couldn’t breathe properly without periodically hyperventilating for days and I hadn’t the appetite to imbibe a morsel. I was a dead woman walking.
It took some months for me to even get back to some remote sense of normalcy. Although I cannot, in retrospect, condone my behaviour for some of the things I did, (some weren’t fair and were driven by emotional outbursts) or didn’t do, I still believe it’s was fine to show my vulnerabilities at the time. I’m glad I wasn’t the introvert that bottled it all inside and let it ferment or boil to a point where it had to burst out in a dangerous way. Then again, thinking back, and who am I to become this sage now, I would have liked someone to really be there for me to tell me that I needed to re-focus my energies and use them to introspect, heal and move forward.
I knew my aberrant behaviour was causing concern and discomfort to my family and friends, and their perception of me as this tough, un-destroyable, strong kid was also undergoing a change. A hyper, opinionated, confident person who stood her own most times, chameleon-like became someone else. That I was going against my very grain must have been tough to accept and absorb, and probably created more of a panic than should have. I was displaying symptoms that were not natural to my personality, a type ‘A’ kind of person.
Perhaps what got lost there was that matters of the heart can be the most intense experiences—they lift you sky high, so far that you can’t really see the ground, and then, when they go wrong, because you’ve let yourself be flown so over the top, the fall is close to the pains you’d physically feel if you were to free fall fast from that height. When you’re are flying that high, the descent needs a parachute—family and special friends who will help make the landing less painfully.
That’s what I was looking for when I saw I’d been left alone on this plane. I sought it everywhere in my despair. I felt schizophrenic, like a person who had no desire to live one day, and was driven to do so on another. What I didn’t realize, and I do now, is that I was the only one who had the button that would have unfolded the parachute! I needed to press it to make a safe landing. It took me more than a while in my zombie-like frame of mind to push to button.
Once I’d pressed the button, the parachute opened and I started to descend. That was a long and pretty eventful journey. While moving down, many things happened. Gusts of wind filled my mind and heart with memories of a lost love and I was forlorn, low and very sad. Then suddenly, the sun shone and I’d feel a little better and more energized. Moments later, a cloud would engulf the sun and darkness that crept right into my heart would completely envelop my being. A few days later, I’d find a bird whizzing past me and her song and flight would uplift me. One time, I even encountered a demon who told me I was going to live in my misery forever. That was terrible, but after a few more days, I encountered an angel who said that was bullshit. She said I was strong enough to continue my journey homeward.
Now, I’d been adrift for quite a few days—I can’t remember exactly how many—but I also slept through some. My dreams were erratic. There were times when I’d wake up with a start, sweating and longing for my lost love. Those nights were discomforting and I thought I’d never make it. But then, the clean air, and my inherent survival instinct, egged me on and I continued to believe that once I touched the ground, all would be fine.
And then, finally after several days and months of floating in space, my parachute landed! My feet touched the ground, but I lost my balance and fell on my side with the parachute engulfing me completely. I struggled for air and freedom and fought the suffocating feeling, flung my arms and feet around to finally untangle it. I felt confused for a moment.
I hadn’t landed where I thought I would, but the surroundings were lush with green pastures and astounding opportunities. I took off my parachute and, attracted to what appeared a very enticing and fulfilling path, started walking.
Over the horizon, the sun had emerged, ready to spread its light and warmth. Looking at it, I walked on, my pace increasing by the minute until I broke into a run. I knew then that I was ready to take on the world, with all its tribulations and beautiful surprises. I’d come back home!