You get a feeling and then you “logic” your way out of believing your gut. Either from fear, denial, disbelief, or something else.
You don’t want to trust something so kumbaya.
So many times in my life, I allowed my brain to talk me out of what I knew to be true. At times the universe had to present hard and fast evidence for me to believe what was happening right under my nose while my gut had been telling me for days or months.
The most difficult episode was when I didn’t answer my son’s last phone call one last time. Yeah, we’d spoken for hours but he started yelling and screaming at me and emotionally, I had had enough, and admittedly I don’t think I responded as I should have. So I didn’t pick up the phone again.
My gut, however, was on high alert, sounding alarm bells so loud I had a headache. I was so emotionally drained, I didn’t have the energy to follow the fire and allowed logic to override.
My momma’s gut didn’t give up though.
It kept tugging at my heartstrings, begging me to pay attention, and I would push it away again saying I needed more time. And I did. Because I’m the type to let things marinate first.
I have long ago forgiven myself for this epic oversight although I’ll admit to feeling a sting of regret and a racing heart while writing this. I have to remember that Charles regularly manipulated me as that’s one of the hallmarks of addiction.
But it changed me. He would take his life that night. Logically I had no idea. My gut knew, though. It knew and it was trying to tell me. But I couldn’t figure it out.
As a result, I no longer ignore my gut but allow it to be first in line, often creating space for it to guide me and let the logic follow.