Everything I’ve Let Go Has Claw Marks on It

Ya’d Think I’d Learn by Now

It’s Hard to Let Go

The rain and wind the other night were tempestuous. Gusts were up to 50–55mph according to my weather app. Not gonna lie, I was nervous. I live in a small mobile home and know full good and well it does not offer the same level of safety as a stick-built home.

I got up a few times to see the drama and it was indeed, dramatic. Palm fronds in wild dance, sideline blasts of rain. All while pummeling my little Zen Den that wasn’t exactly very Zen. What was that thump I heard?

I prayed a little prayer of gratitude that my son could, prior to this weather event, climb onto the roof to fasten down a piece of roofing that had been flapping around.

Then I went back to fretting, wishing I could have a moment like Jesus where he speaks to the wind and the waves immediately settle.

Maybe if I gave the weather a good fist shaking and some sailor talk.

Nah. It would do no good. Dammit.

And how ridiculous would it be to hang on to such a foolish belief as thinking fist waving at the clouds could effect change.

If I insist on waving my fist, what follows next is my own internal thunderstorm: Anger. Rage, even. How dare the weather not obey my commands!

But yet, this is the very thing I do when I refuse to release things I have no control over. This includes some relationships, ungrounded expectations, and-this is a biggie, regrets.

The impact of this cannot be understated.

I know it’s foolish. But yet I hang on. I go round the mountain another time. Maybe THIS time it will be different. The person will change. The past miraculously changes. I recall the anger over a cancer diagnosis and the disruption it brought to my life.

And this is why everything I have let go has claw marks on it. My resistance to release someone or something is where 99% of the suffering lies. Instead of releasing and then processing the grief, I prolong the suffering by trying to change outcomes, not unlike shaking my fist at the clouds.

It may even feel cathartic. It reminds me of my days in evangelical Christianity were loud and fervent prayers were considered more effective. But dammit, Sister Sally STILL died of cancer.

Because I tend to somatize difficult emotions, especially anger and grief, this shows up physically in my body. It was easier to develop fibromyalgia than to face healing the traumas I’ve endured.

Months and months of Irritable Bowel Syndrome speak for the irritation and rage that I keep under wraps-some of it beneath my level of conscience awareness. After all, anger is a no-no emotion so my gut is tasked with expressing the fury.

Henry Maudsley (1835–1918), was a physician who understood the mind/body connection said, The sorrow which has no vent in tears may make other organs weep.

I believe stress played a role in developing breast cancer. And immune system living under a slow drip of stress hormones is a body out of a balance. And that imbalance can create the environment for malignancy.

Watching my marriage crumble, learning of my wasband’s infidelity and relentless financial strain were the biggies. But trust me, these were only the headliners. There was plenty more.

I also want to be very careful here and keep self-compassion top of mind.

I did NOT cause my cancer because I failed at stress management. I did NOT cause the fibromyalgia because I didn’t meditate enough. IBS isn’t because I didn’t scream when someone hurt me.

Rather, I look at these things as the wisdom of the body communicating that something is off kilter.

If you’re dealing with a nonfatal chronic condition, I’d bet my lunch money that you’ve got unresolved trauma, repressed emotions, and a people pleasing personality. (Yes, people pleasing and codependent patterns can mess with your physical health!)

What’s amazing is the healing that can take place when we recognize the value of letting go. For me, this has taken therapy and spiritual direction. If you can’t see it, you can’t address it and that is where professional help is important. And plenty of inner work as well.

I suffered for many years from fibromyalgia. Every day was an adventure of what will hurt today? I was hanging onto a lot expectations for myself and the world I saw around me.

As I learn to let go, the symptoms softened.

The physical body is a wise and benevolent source of wisdom. It will inform you when there is something you need to release.

Sure, sometimes it’s telling me I worked out a muscle group maybe a bit more than I should have. Or I picked up an infection that needs antibiotics. (And thank goodness for antibiotics or this girl might not be sitting here tapping away on the computer.)

But more often than not, symptoms can be speaking to me that I am upset or grieved over something else. (There’s a reason they call it Irritable Bowel Syndrome.)

Now that I am recovered not only from cancer treatment, but also the past few months of acute illness, I’m taking a deep breath. I’m taking a deeper look at the things I know need more work, more healing. I’m considering the things that I need to let go versus what is worth my time and attention. (After all, we can’t pour our love and energy into what really makes us happy if we’re busy hanging onto shit we can’t control.)

My earnest hope is that as I continue to grow and change, I get better at letting go. And to do so without claw marks.

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to contribute to my wishlist.

THERESA WINNFEBRUARY 16, 2023