Breaking Free

 Given everything that I have been through over the past twenty years it is not surprising that I have bottomed and feel like the man with the ten swords plunged into his back. The Ten of Swords is a bit melodramatic. One sword would surely have been enough.  The challenge for me is to pull these swords out and rise like Lazarus or the Terminator. How to renew in the face of such depletion? This is the question that nags at me. I have hoped for an upturn for some time but there has been no evidence of one emerging for me.  This week I have reached another crisis point and can actually see, visually, where I am. The Ten of Swords really does speak to me. It speaks to me of facing one thing after another, of undertaking marathons, of having to endure and be strong when others are not able to be.  The calls upon my resources feel endless, have drained me. It is hardly surprising then that, over the past six months I have experienced all the feelings related to 'bottoming out', of being worn out, of being utterly exhausted. Despite having made important decisions to set out and begin a new life it does not feel like I have made much progress. It does not feel as though there has been an upturn or that I am any closer to feeling a sense of belonging in the community to which I fled, with such hope.  After all the work of moving, once I knew my children were settled, I seemed to lose interest in everything. For months now I have felt directionless and wondered what I can do with myself.  Then, as the New Year dawned and I hoped for a fresh beginning to a new decade, Maxie's appointment with Clotho came, I was with him as he died and then had to face a harrowing period with Mum. Pulling myself away from her was like pulling a python from me. She was, as she has done for so long, burdening me with her loss and grief and, in so doing, squeezing all life from me. It is no wonder that I am now utterly spent and feel that there is no point because I will end up being the primary carer yet again. It is even less surprising that I feel that, like Gulliver, that I am tied down, that I cannot break free from the mold I was put in at birth, that I am most likely to face more of the same. Or must I? Lemuel Gulliver was astonished to awaken after a shipwreck to find himself tied down with a series of slender ropes. He responded by taking steps to break free.  Gulliver was tied down by Lilliputons.  I have been overcome by equally powerful forces. These forces have quite literally bought me to a grinding halt and it feels like even my hair has been tied down so that I cannot even turn my head to see where I am or how I might have come to be pinned to the ground. Like Gulliver I felt 'the Lilliputians' before I saw them dancing about all over my chest.   Unlike Gulliver I have had no strength to even begin breaking free.  It feels like I need a lot of support to break free of the strings that are holding down my arms and legs. Of course, Gulliver did not free himself immediately. He decided that the best course of action was to lie still until the force that had tied him down had gone. Then he was able to seriously begin the task of freeing himself. Before gaining freedom from the Lilliputions, before being cut free of the remaining bonds, he had to spend a great deal of time and be a cooperative prisoner. So perhaps I just need to be a cooperative prisoner for awhile. If I am going to free myself, if I am going to convince my captors to cut free all the bonds that they have used to tie me down, it will take great patience and some very serious work. Initially I will take the path of least resistance and lie still, take some time to just be, to accept the situation that I find myself in. Today I have still been struggling and the bonds feel as though they have tightened.  Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I will try to lie still for awhile.