Resilience

When I picture resilience, in some abstract sense I picture something large, unmovable, unbreakable, unyielding. A large boulder that feels strong, steady, and stable.

Or if I back away a bit, I might picture fields of grass- bending with the wind but never snapping. Always returning to how they were when the storm has passed.

Neither of those feel like me.

When I fall, I fall hard, and fast, and there are weeks where it feels like I can’t breathe. I don’t bounce back, I don’t remain whole, I’ve shattered into pieces. For a long time I chased when I would feel “whole” again- rushing to pick up all the pieces and getting them all mixed up in the process.

I am not resilient in the way that I never break. I am resilient in the way that I have shattered many times, to the point that the new cracks are indistinguishable from the old, in that being put together once again, I have new mends blending in with the rest.