I remember my grandfather telling stories of my great grandmother being notoriously callous and hard. Not abusive, just with a steel exterior, and hard to love.
I never considered why.
She survived WWI, WWII, the great depression, and the 1918 flu pandemic as a Navy nurse.
I never considered why.
She survived WWI, WWII, the great depression, and the 1918 flu pandemic as a Navy nurse.
I have been finding myself pulling away from people, being less touchy, less emotional, more distant, more turned into myself.
Self preservation, coping mechanism, survival skill, whatever I might call it, I do find myself being harder to love lately.
Self preservation, coping mechanism, survival skill, whatever I might call it, I do find myself being harder to love lately.
Trying to turn off the fear, anxiety, self-doubt, isolation, and general sense of upending I've felt in the past month around my profession and my personal life, I've definitely turned more inward in an attempt to shut all the noise out.
Does it work?
I mean, yes.
And no.
Does it work?
I mean, yes.
And no.
My great-grandmother survived, but she was fiercely independent, closed off, and hard-headed as a result. She never was able to really take down her shields, even to the very end.
She survived the world, but I can't say for certain if she really thrived in it.
She survived the world, but I can't say for certain if she really thrived in it.
I often have sat awake at night lately, wondering if the steel exterior I have started to put into place to survive some ugly aspects of this will forever stay in some form or another; if I'll be able to take it down entirely one day.
I worry, more each day, how the weight of all those I'll carry from this will feel with time.
And I think I know why my great-grandmother chose to stay hard to love, in the end.
And I think I know why my great-grandmother chose to stay hard to love, in the end.
@threadreaderapp Unroll, thank you!
