When Life Is But Treading Water
Sometimes, life gets put on hold, and time freezes. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you wait for:
Your lab report, or
Your doctor's diagnosis or
Your rehabbing pain to lessen and improvements happen, or
Your unemployment checks to come, or
Your eviction notice is to be solved.
During times like these, especially ones that carry serious financial, career, or even lethal illness consequences, trying to go on with your life is lonely and frightening. You often feel like you're living a stunned into a deer-caught-in-the-headlights existence.
At this point, living from day to day is like treading ice cold, 60-degree Pacific ocean water, at night, without any moonlight, a mile from land … and you're not able to touch bottom. Even if boats and human help were nearby, they couldn't see you or hear your weakening shouts for help. You are alone, terribly alone.
You are desperate, panicked, and helpless to do anything but tread water … trying to stay afloat as one huge wave after another crashes over you.
The starless night hides all hope. You don't see any land or the possibility of reaching shore. All you see is an endless succession of waves threatening to drown you. If you succumb to your helpless plight, give up, and stop moving your legs and arms—within minutes, hypothermia will freeze you to death, or large waves will sink you permanently.
To remain stuck in passive inactivity will inevitably end in your death. Time and again, you've tried—by flailing your arms, bicycling your legs … positive thinking … and praying for help.
Countless others face catastrophes as well. For them, the cold, impersonal universe is now but a series of inundating waves— disappointing setbacks like real water waves menace your water-torture survival.
Where is God in all this nonstop crisis after crisis? Your life-threatening predicament requires urgent help. Like the psalmist, you cry out to God,
"Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me … Rescue me from the mire, do not let me sink; deliver me. From the deep waters I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me … (I do not) know what to do: but my eyes are upon you." —Adapted from 2 Chronicles 20:12; Psalms 22:19; 69:1, 2
In spite of your plight, please remind yourself of God's promises:
"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, Do not be afraid, for I am with you; Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise."—Isaiah 43: 2-5, 18-21
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.—Isaiah 43:10
Post-Surgery or Post-Emotional Chaos Suggestions
You may be facing mounting setbacks, smashed expectations, uncertainties, and "what-ifs." Among other things, these certainly drain energy and smother hope.
My experiences as a "surgery frequent flyer" (8 knee operations—5 of which were total knee replacements, a heart stent, depression, anxiety, etc.) have taught and still are teaching me some valuable lessons. I offer these as one patient's suggestions for dealing with your possible post-surgery, post-mental meltdown tiredness as well as potential battles with depression and anxiety.
Be very patient with yourself. Every patient experiences post-op side effects differently. If you are tired, take all the time you need—days, weeks, even months—to rest, sleep, and veg out.
Refrain from pushing yourself or guilt-tripping yourself with "shoulds." You've been through not only a surgical procedure but also all the emotional upset that goes with it.
Remind yourself, often, that it's natural for anyone going through a surgical procedure, emotional upheaval, and lengthy rehab, plus add-ons of messy worries over uncertainties.
Soooo ... please don't stress over your loss of energy or desired goal accomplishments. They will return in their own good time, in their own unique form.
In the meantime, please be assured that my wife, Leah, and I are solidly in your corner, along with your family and many friends.
"May your joys be as deep as the ocean, your sorrows as light as its foam." —Author unknown
Jim