If I had a nickel for every time that I started a sentence like that I’d be a billionaire. Is that an 80’s thing?
Anyway…
Here’s the deal. First, I hate it when a bear hurts and I’m sorry.
This is for me, not making it “about me.” Those are two very different things so please understand that.
I found out about a death a couple weeks ago. My heart got caught in my throat. My brain was running on pure adrenaline. Like five hamsters per wheel. The boxes I so expertly shove memories and emotions into starting blowing their lids off. I was inside my head for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to talk. I couldn’t deal with small talk nor did I want to be awake. I pulled into my shell. Everyone asking “ What’s wrong?” I didn’t want to release the news. I needed to hold it close to my soul so that I could try and filter the emotions, memories , life, by myself.
My husband isn’t really known for being the greatest at understanding empathy. I can break open my heart and let an emotion pour out and his idea of support is something like “ you can deal with it in your own time/way.” When I’m wanting to go so deep into understanding why I’m feeling this way, where did I get it from, why is this my reaction, is this a protection mode learned as a child or am I just an asshole for thinking, feeling these feelings” he hates talking about the kids. He’s got his own boxes.
I mean, I am a two semester psychiatrist, after all.
So after a couple of days I called Robb “ Ok, here’s the deal…” to which he replied “ uh oh”
We hashed it out, beat it to a red spot where the dead horse used to be. My husband likes that Robb is a former counselor. It saves us a lot of money. Robb gets it. Robb can walk me through a thought while being all British with his “ please excuse me if this is going to far” and his “ if I’m hearing you correctly, is it that you feel like….?” Or “ Have you thought that perhaps this feeling is tied to ( an example)” Everything sounds better and more comforting with an English accent…. And he ALWAYS gets me. His advice or guidance is always spot on. I did also make an emergency appointment with my psychiatrist.
What is difficult to do in this situation is hold two thoughts in my head that should negate each other. That they are so opposed to each other that it can’t seem possible to feel them at the same time.
How can you …. Feel like an old friend has passed and feel sadness deeply over that while at the exact time feel rage and hate and pure burning pain deeply. One so cold and lonely and one white hot.
We were friends. We did sit on 5 Mile hill solving the world’s problems and go on motorcycle rides late into the night stopping in some bar out in the middle of nowhere to get hot chocolate. I did drag him to my family reunions to pretend that he was my boyfriend. We did go dancing and laugh and played basketball outside of the apartment he shared with his brother when the brother didn’t come back to the apartment those nights and my heart hurt. AND he was the person who sexually assaulted me. Molested my body. I never had him pick me up where I lived. I honestly don’t know if he knew where I lived. My gut was telling me that I needed him to drop me off at my brother’s apt. That I was unsafe if drunk and outside of his car. If I let him into my apartment. One time he wouldn’t leave me outside my brother’s place ( for the record my brother never knew that I was using his apartment door as my drop off place because I’d wait a few minutes and leave) but on this night… he wouldn’t leave. I had to push him away. Nicely, of course. That’s what women do. We went round and round for probably 20 minutes until he got the message. That was after “ Shhh, Mike’s asleep” “no, he’ll be worried about me.” “ Dude, you need to go to bed”……I leaned against my brother’s door, sitting with my legs pulled up, my arms wrapped around them and waited for a half an hour before I went to my car, making sure that he was gone. I’ve never told that to ANYONE. But he said if S had been like me he would have married her… but he’d push his dick up against my back…
Both Robb AND my psychiatrist told me that it’s ok to hold both thoughts because to me, both thoughts ARE TRUE.
So here’s the deal…You can mourn a loss and also feel that a chapter has finally ended.
Look to the moon and that’s where I’ll be.
Tracy
