“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine. And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others. And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.” - Murakami
I wish I could talk to you now. From a different perspective and a different place than you ever saw or knew in me. From a person who no longer hides behind a suit of armor and reactivity. A person who now possesses the gift of hindsight and understanding, with the knowledge and tools that have come from many weeks of hard work, self-assessment and ruthless ownership of my past mistakes, trauma and pain. I want to share with you this new me, this giant open heart, able to fully feel and experience all of my emotions for the first time in my life. I want to show you how the parts of me you love have grown stronger, more vulnerable, more compassionate and more open, more honest. The parts of me that scared you aren’t gone, but they no longer have control over me, and they never will again. I have finally learned to let go of the anger and pain that I wore like a badge of honor, I no longer feel the need to prove myself to anyone and everyone, I no longer have the need to react to everything. I have learned to accept and to breathe, to listen and to have discussion. Mostly I have let go of the chip on my shoulder that I have carried for so long.
It would break your heart, if you knew me well. See, I have run so far that I’ve lost myself. And there are things I have seen that I never will tell. They drove me out of my mind and inside myself.
Gaslight Anthem
I would like to share with you the depths of my pain and fears, the things I hid even from you, I was too ashamed, too embarrassed to admit them to myself, let alone the person I love. I want to show you all of my scars and wounds, all of the lash marks, the self-inflicted punishments and the demons that crawled through my veins. I want to show you the ways I have learned heal them, to stop picking the scabs and leaving the wounds open and raw. I have stopped trying to harness and tame my demons and I have learned to let them go, they can’t have control of me anymore. I have been living in terror and numbness for 30 years, I have been pushing the snooze button over and over, never allowing these things to fully be felt or processed, just shoving them down somewhere deep inside. Locking it all up and thinking I had it managed. It’s obvious in hindsight I was just adding fuel to a ticking time bomb, one that finally triggered and exploded when we were both desperate for support and love.
My friend and mentor ‘OC’ used to tell me, “You can’t train dogs if you can’t buy dog food.” at the time, I took it very literally due to age and circumstance, but I’ve come to realize he meant so much more. I have realized I was putting so much effort into my careers, our relationship, trying to live in two states and be there for you every possible day, that I had stopped feeding myself adequately, I wasn’t taking time to take care of me, I was stressed financially, physically and emotionally. I was stretched so thin and had nothing left for myself, and in hindsight I knew it, but I was so afraid to lose you in your grief, that I didn’t have the courage to go home, give you space and take care of myself, to let you take care of yourself. I see now how wrong that was and I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger at the time. Trauma and fear do weird things to your brain, I almost felt like I was on the outside watching myself each day from a few feet away, like I was a spectator of my own life, not an active participant.
I was so happy when you made arrangements to have work for me for the summer. The possibilities we discussed and the plans we loosely made. In hindsight, I should’ve looked for a job in town, I should’ve just helped out at the ranch, my need and desire to be near you, to learn from you, to watch you with the animals put so much stress on us, add in all of the external factors and things had to explode, unfortunately the explosion caused us both so much damage, we may never repair it.
I love you. I’m sorry this happened. In a strange twist, I also know I wouldn’t be getting the help I needed and taking this so seriously if it had ben a lesser blow up, around people I love less. I needed the entire world to crash down on me to see the seriousness of my addiction, to see the seriousness of my CPTSD and to finally make the choice that I was going to get real, professional help, I was going to make real, tangible change, and I was going to be a kinder, more loving and caring human. I am becoming a person who is actually capable of unconditional love, one who can listen and discuss challenges and problems without reacting, one who can fully commit to a loving relationship, because I have finally learned to start loving myself, I am learning that making time and space for myself aren’t selfish acts, they are necessary ones for healthy relationships and healthy people.
Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, “It might have been.”
Kurt Vonnegut
I am winning my addiction battle, it is the easy one to vanquish and I’ll never allow a substance to take control of me again. The journey to understand, heal and grow from my trauma will be lifelong, but I have come so far already, I can’t wait to see where I go. I still hold faith in you, in us, in me, that we will repair this one day and have something better. But I’m on this journey for me, despite us, not because of us. Because as much as I am longing for what we had, what might have been, I see that what could be is so much more beautiful.
