the life i’ve left behind me
The zen-ness continues. I read this particularly touching story on CNN this morning. And I just don’t know how I feel about it. I believe that there are certain memories we block out because we can’t bear them. I went through a time when I consciously had to stop myself from remembering parts of my relationship with Voldemort because they were too painful. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a memory as powerful as the one suppressed by Chris Keith.
I’ve said for years that the secret (if you want to call it that) to happiness is being grateful. There’s a reason your mom tells you to “count your blessings” as a kid. There’s a reason that watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey or Jersey Shore makes us feel better about ourselves (and hope that we never live in New Jersey!). So I try to remind myself of the overwhelming, overflowing goodness that is in my life regularly–otherwise, I get wound up small and tight/and I don’t know who I am. And that’s no good to anyone, let alone me.
I can count up the bad, sure. I was an awkward kid, with a brain much bigger than her confidence. I had a particularly nasty note written to me by my “friends” in the 9th grade that resulted in my first thoughts of suicide. I was finally diagnosed with depression on October 26, 2009, after enduring so many bad days that I had to admit to myself that life isn’t supposed to be this hard. Even my amazing parents dismissed my depression, and told me that “you are stronger than this.” I finally sought help because my father’s side of the family has a history of depression and suicide–he lost his brother when I was a small child, and his sister’s son shot himself (unsuccessfully at first, then successfully a year later) when I was in college.
I guess my point is that everyone is struggling with something. We have our predispositions – mine is that I take failure (and criticism) very personally. Some of us have horrible things that have happened to us that no one knows about. According to Tori Amos-founded RAINN one in six women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime – 17.6%. That’s a big number, but we also know that it’s bigger because that’s based on reported assaults. How many go unreported? What are the issues created when someone we love leaves us? When we watch someone we love die of cancer, or come dangerously close? What are the parts of us we instinctively shut down because the hurt is just too much?
I am steel/I don’t feel/anything at all… and it’s been too many years/I’ve hurt too many times/to give up everything
It’s survival mode. We all do it. Whether it’s our Excuses, or Precious Illusions. We find our ways to push through. We go to God, tequila, boys gone through like water. We have our defenses and coping mechanisms and all the things you tell yourself. And where does it lead? I think we all find some peace in the struggle to find peace/comfort on the way to comfort even if we’re fumbling towards it.
Because we all have the baggage, the pain, the things that we can’t erase, and sometimes, can’t bear, all we can do is look forward. We get the chance to start over, mistakes and all, everyday. It’s a choice. I’ve crossed the last line/from where I can’t return/where every step I took in faith betrayed me/and led me from my home… It doesn’t mean anything at all/The life I’ve left behind me/is a cold room.
