Today's post is a blast from the past, originally written April 2008. I was working hard and long on my recovery, processing a lot of emotions. I was working towards relocating and starting another stage of my life. I was excited and terrified, and more than a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of WORK involved.
So it goes without saying that I was a little moody. I was doing a lot of journalling in those days, and much of it made it onto the blog I had then since I type far more quickly than I write. There is a small possibility that you have already seen some of these 'blasts from the past' on the other site, but it's all my original work. And I have since pulled them off that blog so as not to overload search engines.
Pagan Princess
---------------------------------------------------------------------
OMG I'm crying my
eyes out!!!! But--before everyone
starts rolling their eyes and wondering what has set me off THIS
time....... it's a GOOD cry. Truly.
But be warned,
I'm trying to process so this will probably ramble a LOT!
The last several
years of my life have been tough. To say I've lost my way, and
much of myself, would be a massive understatement. Even more
difficult, is that the people who knew me way back when...... pretty
much aren't in my life anymore. I started pulling away from
many childhood friends my senior year of high school for various
reasons. One of which--I didn't know how to bridge the gap.
Socially awkward doesn't even BEGIN to cover it. By graduation
I was a virtual stranger. I was so hell-bent on making my
own way, carving out a new life. I had to get away from my
home town to understand just how desperately unhappy I had been, and
that the ways I handled my pain alienated and wounded those around
me. My good friend, Greg, helped me to understand that.
Less than six
months after graduation my friend, Ben died, and my world shattered. I knew I loved him dearly, but didn't realize to what extent he was my best friend until he was gone. Even
reading emails from friends back home hurt too much to bear for
oh-so-many reasons. Several of my high school friends made an
effort to tell me about Ben as soon as they heard. They didn't
want me to find out in a bad way. And, as I tried to cope with
our loss, they gave me many words of wisdom. Most of which I
wasn't ready to hear. Walking away helped me submerge my
heartbreak.
Within the last
few months, a childhood/high school friend and I have been in
correspondence. Our friendship, and our competitive battles,
were legend. Probably still are. Within our circle of acquaintances, he and I probably defined love/hate. Greg
never felt intimidated by my father. That or he hid it VERY
well. Probably the ONLY person from my youth to be that way, or
the only male anyway. He was the first friend to vocalize,
albeit maybe not recognize, the great damage my family circumstances
inflicted upon my heart; and that maybe, just maybe, my parents were
partly culpable.
I keep MEANING to
write Greg, and it keeps getting away from me. And I'm so
scattered most days that I have difficulty remembering what I have
discussed with whom and when. UG! But as my 'sister' Spazz says:
when in doubt, blame it on the meds.
Greg was also
the first person to get ahold of me about Ben, and by FAR the most
persistent. He called my dorm room at 15-30 minute intervals
all morning long until he finally reached me. He, better than
anyone, knew how much Ben's passing would affect me.
About two? weeks
ago Greg sent me a quick letter. I had started giving him
answers to questions one night back in February, but stopped after my
hands got tired. (read: about 90 minutes) As those of you who
read my blogs can attest, once I get going I channel a Russian
novelist. My emails are
worse. Being tired, I told
him I'd get him part 2 later.
But I didn't.
So Herr Greg sent
me a quick note just to check in. That by ITSELF melted my
heart. When, oh WHEN was the last time someone called or
emailed just to check in?
Anyway, Greg
is to be married this October. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy,
truly. And I have my own, private reasons for rejoicing in his
happiness. (Read--I know things
about him you don't.) I asked
him recently where he and his lovely finacee were registered, and
what he might like as a wedding present.
His response was
so moving and encouraging, that just thinking of it tears me up:
And, from your earlier message, please do not consider any tangible gifts. If you really want to get me something that I will honestly treasure, then strive to get out and stand on your own two legs again. You may have forgotten, but Pagan Princess strives on proving people wrong...and she has no limitations despite what anyone, casual or professional, may say. She just needs to be ready to decide it and it's done....... Do that by October and I promise that you'll have given me my most cherished wedding gift.
With one short
missive he brought back everything we once were to each other ages
ago. This is the man who instead of putting a trite quip in my
senior yearbook wrote a letter to my
unborn children telling
them how blessed they are to have me as a mother--because they could
never have one finer than myself.
Tonight there was another
letter awaiting my when I logged in.
From his words, I can almost
see the girl I was eleven years ago. I have forgotten her,
utterly and completely in so many ways. I'm not her anymore,
and I can't be again. I'm wise enough to know that. I'm
also pleased with many of the ways I have grown beyond her.
***But some days I
miss her so keenly that I fear catching a glimpse of the razor blades
that surely must protrude from my chest. What happened to the
brash teen, so full of her own hubris that she'd defy God Himself
just because she knew she could? Where did the strong,
intelligent, not-yet-a-woman go? Is she still in here
somewhere? First arrogance matured to confident
assertion.
Next, slowly and then suddenly the sickness came. The agonizingly slow death of the her soul leaving only the ghostly shell of who she once was.***
How do you
recapture what once was, when knowing there
is no going back???
Then tonight's
missive, more loving and specific than that which came before, and
I can't stop crying! But
the most confusing thing is, I don't know why!!!!
Have I lost the
ability to trust those around me? Those whom I love with a
desperation that terrifies, that whatever words of encouragement they
send my way bounce off the tattered armor I clutch to my heart?
Why should the words of someone who knew me THEN have the power to
undo me in ways that no one since has been able to acheive????
I suppose the
simplest truth---is because he DID know me. In all my glory and
gore, Greg knew me; loved me, understood me. Sadly, we
probably hurt each other as much as we loved because in our own ways
we were each young, damaged, and hurting. Were I to ask, I'll
wager he could recall many of my exploits in such
vivid detail, you would think the narrative sprung from his active
artist's imagination. He certainly entertained the masses with
his embellished recounting of my varied follies! A truer jester I
have never known, Greg. Fifty years ago he'd have given Danny Kaye
a run for his money.
So, here's to
those who came before. Who see and know things about us we may
WISH to forget
and
thus keep us in line. Those who know our hurts, and always save
time for a hug and prayer.
and
thus keep us in line. Those who know our hurts, and always save
time for a hug and prayer.
Today I am
crying, but for the first time in a long time I remember how it feels
to be blessed.
***
not all of
this paragraph is entirely, originally my own. I know that some of it
was inspired by Elizabeth Wurtzel's Prozac
Nation, and other written
sources. And I often lose track of what metaphors I think of
independently only to see in print later.
No comments:
Post a Comment