THE NUTCRACKER

Hello, wonderful people! I wrote this some time ago when I was slap bang in the middle of a long and painful season of my life. On revisiting it unexpectedly, I've decided to share it, because although I didn't realise it at the time, this season was the foundation used to birth Unveiled Ink.

So here's some of the backstory. Enjoy!

Recently, I asked myself a question:

How many times have you heard the expression “cracked under pressure” or “I'm cracking up” i.e. losing my mind?

The answer? More times than I can count. But I’ve never looked at the whole notion of “being cracked” in the way I am about to share, until now. Disclaimer, folks: when I say, “being cracked” I don’t mean the illegal white substance people are out here consuming. And yes, I know that the term “being cracked” makes no sense, but it does in Verona’s world, so I humbly ask you to bear with me. Making up random terms is kind of my thing!

The Cracking

So, things have been extremely challenging in my life over the last few years for several reasons, but the last year probably being the most challenging, as it felt as if everything snowballed at an alarming pace. Circumstances in my life became devastating in my career, personal life, and health.

Additionally, in the last 18 months, I’ve had 3 different surgeries in the midst of managing several chronic pain conditions at the same time. It’s fair to say, I’m exhausted. It can be a soul-destroying experience to live a life feeling trapped in your own body every single day. It takes a lot to stay sane. You can smile, you can breathe, you can exist, but no-one besides God himself understands the constant torment and inner turmoil. I would need about 20 blog posts to describe it.

I’ve been pricked, probed, cut open, scanned, questioned, judged, and frustratingly told by well-meaning people “just rest” about as many times as I can stomach. But strangely enough, I have realised that all the horrendous nights, days, months, and years of being patronised, misunderstood, mishandled, disappointed, heartbroken, sent from pillar to post and from one specialist to another while being in physical, emotional and mental agony (all while raising my 2 daughters as a single parent) actually had a lot of purpose hidden in it. And believe me, that is not an easy thing for me to say. It wasn’t a revelation I was ready to accept for a very long time.

"The only way out is through."

Now, I should point out that I haven’t come out the other side doing cartwheels and singing a complete song of victory just yet, (even though I still make sure I declare it). The fact is that I am still going through. Life is still very much uncertain and I still have very few answers to my millions of questions to God about it all, and in times of deep despair, I’ve even questioned the point of my very existence.

Is it to suffer constantly?

Is it to be crushed and disappointed again and again like a song on repeat?

Is it to be pinned down with the weight of depression and habitually comfort eat as I look down on my ever-growing love handles as I relentlessly stuff my face with Pringles, chocolate bars and whatever else I feel like devouring? Hmmm… so many questions… so many calories… so many google searches for high-waisted jeans… I digress…

I’ve also wondered if I should use my limited energy to solely focus on raising my girls, heal, and totally forget about anything else I ever had in mind for the future (even with that, I see time racing away as I watch my daughters unapologetically grow out of the very same clothes I bought them 2 weeks previously, while their birthdays seem to come around every 2 months). But amid the multitude of questions, it’s clear to me that these challenges are playing a huge part in the making of me.

I know it without seeing the light at the end of the tunnel or reading the last chapter of the book.

Sometimes, we need everything to come crashing down around us to force us to face ourselves. It causes us to re-evaluate the chapter of our lives that we happen to be living through at the time. In this season, God has definitely allowed life to “crack” me open. (Please note that I said He allowed it, NOT that He caused it!)

My shell has many layers.

Some are made from ignorance — the things that I didn’t know about myself and needed to learn.

Some are behaviours, thoughts and habits I didn’t realise were unhelpful to me.

Other layers are unresolved and unprocessed trauma.

I’ve also realised that Verona isn’t always kind to Verona, but I’m learning how to be. I’m still navigating my way through a very transitional time with an unclear definitive conclusion because my soul is still on the operating table. On some days I am graceful about this process and on most days I’m kicking and screaming my way through it, but I stick with it because I understand and cannot get away from this truth:

The only way out is through.

So, in saying all of this, it seems as though I have a lot in common with nuts. I hear the chant of my friends screaming out in unison “Yes, Verona. You’re a nutter! We’ve always told you that you’re a little cray-cray!” No, my lovely friends, that’s not the type of nuts I’m talking about. I’m talking about the eating kind.

The Nut

I’ve always loved the moreish taste of nuts and their earthy texture. But on the rare occasion, to enjoy a particular type of nut has meant having to whip out the nutcracker and flex my minuscule muscles to crack the shell open. I despise having to do it. It’s annoying and inconvenient. I’ve wanted to frantically throw the nutcracker across the room at times because it seemed like too much bother, but I never did. Why? Because not only am I a certified foodie, but I knew that what was inside was worth all the gripping and tugging. I would look at the shell and think: “There’s no way in the world you’re going to mess with the vision I have for my snack time today, so be tough all you want because you’re GOING to crack!” Haha!

Well, guys, I can categorically say that a ton load of challenging circumstances is currently playing the part of the nutcracker and God is the hand doing the gripping and tugging to turn what was meant to destroy me around for good, while the enemy of my soul is pulling and tugging in the other direction in order to take me out; but the most important part to all of this is, even with the frustration, disillusionment, pain, and isolation that surrounds this process, I can already see that there is delicious and nutty wonderfulness inside my “shell”. There is goodness simply waiting to be discovered.

In knowing this, I am anchored.

In believing that there is something good, something purposeful, and something awesome on the inside of me that God is moving heaven and earth to reveal… well… that helps to keep me going and leaves me with this reconsideration:

Perhaps this annoying nutcracker isn’t so bad after all.

#backstory #nutcracker