Even when you’re most troubled, isolated, and lost — you are not alone. Other people can help, and a surprising number can relate. It’s hard to see this when you’re in a rut, but when you open to it, it can be a tremendous source of strength and a lifeline out of a dark place.
I’ve seen this up close many times, including this week.
As I write, my daughter is two weeks into a month-long hospital stay in Dallas. She’s not even 2 years old. My little girl is fierce and resilient. Without going into detail, we’re not worried about her survival. The hospital stay is to work on overcoming a few hurdles, and she’s doing amazingly well. She’s a champ. She’s not just tolerating her circumstances, in many ways, she’s thriving.
Me — not so much.
I’ve been anxious about the peculiarities of my daughter’s situation, exhausted from simultaneously caring from our 4-month-old, tense from being away from my usual regimen, and frustrated with long, unproductive days inside hospital walls. I wish I were handling this with patience and grace — I’m incredibly grateful for the program my daughter is in, and I’m blown away by her spirit — but a lot of moments haven’t been pretty.
Insert a hearty cry and plea to God for help on the eve of Thanksgiving.
As I let myself sob without reservation, the tension that had been mounting within me began pouring out. It was a huge release, which my prayer for help probably facilitated even more. I totally let go. It was a marked internal shift.
A few days later, I got into a conversation with another mom. Her daughter faces many of the same battles that my little one does. The two girls have a shocking number of similarities, despite completely different health backgrounds. Connecting with her was better than therapy.
Then I started talking to another mom. She always seems totally cool and collected. In my mind, I’m teetering on the edge; she’s rock solid. Au contraire. She tells me about her family’s situation and confesses that she’s majorly struggling. We understand each other in a way that most people can’t.
In the midst of these connections, two of the most influential people in my life (outside of family and closest friends), Roger and Albina Rippy, the original owners of the yoga studio where I teach, happened to be in the area. I got to spend a soul-nourishing morning with them. Then my mother-in-law visited Dallas and helped us with the baby. After that, we found another sweet woman to watch after him.
Things obviously didn’t become struggle-free overnight, but once I shed some of my angst and opened up to help, I started receiving it from other people in various and unexpected ways. It still takes effort for me to keep it together, but all these connections have been a beautiful and critical boost.
I’m learning a lot of lessons from this experience. One of the biggies: when times are tough, find your people. That can absolutely involve phone calls to loved ones (shout out to mom and dad in Connecticut), but it also means opening-up to the folks right in front of you.
Your people may not be who or where you’d expect, but they’re there. Seeing them is a game changer.