Thoughts of Transitions (part one)

It’s been quite a year of change for me… in such subtle ways that until the last few days, I haven’t quite been truly aware of it.

When I had first gone to the counselor that T and I had been referred to, she was quite surprised that I had not been given a prescription for anti-depressants previously. Namely due to when I had checked myself into the hospital for two days in 1989, on the year anniversary of our wedding. But I had not been and there is no way to know if it would have impacted my life and marriage. For quite some time after the counselor mentioned this to me, I had such anger that I had not been given a prescription. It made a big difference to me emotionally, being placed on anti-depressants. It was a remarkable feeling to not *feel* so much despair and negativity. In many ways it was like being released from chains.

I stayed on them faithfully for many years, up until I had to let my insurance lapse due to not being able to afford the premiums when I was unable to find work again when disability ended 4 years ago. I had quite a roller-coaster going on at the time in addition to this, P moving in and out and then finally leaving again, I was unable to find a balance.

Over the course of the last 4 years, I have strived very hard to find a balance for my life, not only for my heart but for my peace of mind. Just so that I could live without being tormented by “what could have been’s” or “what if’s”, but even harder to cope with, the “why’s?”.

I have no answers to those questions, but it really isn’t that important to me to find the answers any longer. Each year I would tell myself that I had found some sort of escape from my tormented thoughts. Yet, whenever the holidays would come, they would prick into my subconscious and show me what fallacy those hopes had been. This is the first year I can honestly say that I’ve not been overwrought at some time or another over the last few days.

To me, that’s quite an amazing feat. I do not think it is an accomplishment, because it’s not really something I worked for or at, it just… is.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t things that are going wrong. It would be deceiving myself to think that I have reached a place in life that I truly want to be. I think it would be more honest in me to say that I have reached a place in life I can deal with.

So… what has it been that has prohibited me in writing, as I thought to before? Time and silent space to consider, for the most part. Right now, Gin and DarkRen are watching Twelve Monkeys in the living room, so I have my computer (which resides in my ‘office’ where DarkRen is staying) at my disposal for some time, and I thought I’d come and attempt to write.

DarkRen came and visited me a year ago, yet for some silly reason, perhaps a wish to protect his privacy, I did not speak of it here. He mentioned in his diary that he had visited, complete with pictures of my two cats and my mothers’ cats, but still I felt unable to for some reason. It could be that I have tried to be so vague that I could not commit myself to speaking of day-to-day things.

DarkRen has been my rock for over 3 years now. He has helped me in so many ways; I could not illustrate them here, if I tried. Not only for being my best friend, but for being able to listen to me day in and day out, without judgment and without condemnation. A year ago I was also dealing with my wayward heart. I love DarkRen deeply; a year I was battling the hurt for the fact that it would need to remain unrequited. I also was not certain in myself that our friendship could survive that, despite his assurances. I suppose it would also be honest for me to say that I did not know if I could continue in the friendship while feeling rejected in heart.

And yet, what means most to me in our friendship is the day-to-day discussions, the fact that we can and do talk about anything and everything, and it doesn’t change how we relate to one another. I have cried over this and despaired over this, yet now it does not wound me as it did before. I may only get the one week out of a year to spend time with him, but we can relax and share time, whether it is making 400 spring rolls or watching movies without any period of awkwardness, at least… none that I am aware of.

Heart-loves can come and go many times in a lifetime, but friend-loves can last for years, through many trials… they are rare and infinitely more precious than whatever giddy thrills might comprise a different type of relationship. So though I may never again know the thrill of a first kiss or the warmth of one near, I would not trade such fleeting moments for what I have and can know will be there throughout the years to come.