Unexpected times..

There was a dark time in my life.. not surprising for those who read, I seem to go on about them incessantly. But I’ve found documenting them can sometimes helps banish the nightmares, as if committing them to paper I can let go of them somehow.

I’ll gloss over the details. Nitty gritty.. though interesting for some to read, gets a bit old after awhile. Just to carry the memories, if not in the act of retelling them. The reason for even mentioning it isn’t because of what happened, but for what transpired afterwards, so it’s merely a lead-in, not the sum of what is in my mind tonight.

When I was 21, I had gone through heartbreak. I’ve mentioned it in an entry past, and it was something I used for an excuse for a long time. Though it didn’t truly have anything at all to do with what happened. (I’m wondering if this is way too vague for others to follow.)

In any event, it was the first year that I was to work the Renaissance Faire. I had trusted, foolishly, in one who was an instructor. I had been in an auto accident; had no place to stay, and believing that the instructor would not take advantage of a situation, accepted an invitation to stay. Mind you, this place was full of actors in tents; there was little, if any, true privacy. This one area I thought would be safe enough, yet I was wrong. What I had held tightly onto for my wishes to save an intrinsic part of me was taken away in the night.

All the hopes and dreams I had carried of remaining a virgin until I was wed were dashed that night, by the act of a man who was married with small children, one who at 30 was already on his third wife.

After this occurrence, a friend had recommended a book entitled ‘Please Understand Me.’ At least I think that is the title of it. It seems that my entire life I have been looking for someone, anyone at all.. who might understand what I am inside. I sought acceptance from anyone who would listen, strangers.. friends.. family. Usually strangers for friends often drifted away. I realized when I was a teenager that I turned people away by talking so much to whoever might be there, and so I drew into myself more and more.

One night at a youth meeting that was part of the activities of the church I belonged to, a woman there was giving me a compliment. She said that usually when someone asked how I was, I would begin to tell them what was happening with me at the time, and how then, I had stopped doing so, and how wonderful that was to see.

It was like cold water dashed in my face, all at once I saw what I had become, a whiner who could not stop complaining. I hid away more from that point forward. And yet, it was still part of my character makeup, to want acceptance and understanding. There was too much in my mind for me to comprehend, and I hoped that someone, somewhere might have the answers I sought for so desperately.

Fast-forward many years to when I had cancer. I spoke to a close friend of mine who is far away. She commented one day on how much I had changed, how I had not called to ask for help, or to talk.. how my speaking of taking things one day at a time was such a change for me. And it was.. for me it was such a relief to no longer feel I needed all the answers for the future in my grasp.

I look back to the beginning of my diary, and I see some steps forward, I see the angst that fills the pages. And I become weary when reading of them. They are like a lead weight on my heart.

But I also see that I have grown in many ways, deep inside. I am still very much full of fear.. and yet I do not grieve so for the past as I was once wont to. I feel sadness, but it is not so gripping, it does not make my stomach clench, it does not cause me to weep as often.

Yesterday I saw the movie Minority Report. And there was one scene towards the end that would usually break me in two and leave me crippled inside. This time I could see it and for a change be glad for those in the movie, even though it is separate from reality, it was still nice to feel. Of course, there was the lingering sadness, dreams that are shattered are never far from ones mind completely.

Do I feel hopeful of having the same in my life? No.. not at all, for technically speaking, it would be a physical impossibility. Yet what did give me hope was that I could look at another who could have such a blessing and not be blinded by jealousy, not want to run into a hiding place to mourn what never shall come to pass.

I do not credit that this is all my own doing, because I have been too mired into my own hellhole of an existence to see past the tip of my nose. And yet, there are those near who are tugging gently at me to take those steps forward, both near and far.. and it helps to know I am not alone. It helps to know that when I did not seek for someone to understand me, they came to me instead, offering friendship when I was not seeking it.

People pass through our lives for different reasons. I can let those who hurt me walk past or I can hold their image in front of my face and dwell up on it forever. I would rather hold the friends that have come into my life in my heart, and for the time they gift me with their care, let healing come into the cavern of ice that was all of what my heart had become.

For these I am thankful, for always. For these that have the patience and gentleness, as well as willingness to put up with my stubborn disposition, I hope to be worthy of their faith in me.