…A little unsteady…

Listening to X-Ambassadors “Unsteady”

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It’s not that I ever thought healing would be instantaneous, overnight, and without any moments of something that isn’t all cupcakes, and Care Bears. I’ve actually been a little amazed at how rainbows and glitter I’ve felt since going to Arizona. Crazy, happy surprised, but surprised none-the-less. It did happen with an unexpected suddenness. Which sounds funny, and stupid, because there was nothing “sudden” about so many  years in the depths of holy fuck this sucks. Sometimes trying to kick and scream my way out, and other times just hoping to finally drown in the sea of it all, so the hurt would stop. But once the corner was turned, it WAS TURNED! So it caught me off guard when, Sunday night, I got a little unsteady.

Sunday wasn’t like the tears, small and not so, of earlier in the week, ’cause I knew exactly what was causing the disturbance in The Force. And I’m writing these words knowing they can be seen by the world, but not knowing who might actually see. I want to edit myself to prevent the possible using against me, of my, me. But I won’t. I will throw this out into the ether because it is FOR ME, and for those who may find value in it.

The first phone call last week was easily (and without malice) ignored. The 2nd, Sunday night, got a little under my skin. The third, a short time after, it got me unsteady. It got me worried that there may be something really wrong. It got me thinking there might be something I need to hear, or say. It got me feeling yucky things. To be PERFECTLY clear, it did not get me missing, longing, nostalgic, hopeful, lonely, or achy breaky heart. It got me thinking that I was being something less than…lovely. Less than good. Less than a shiny sparkling creature, who deserves to be liked, loved, adored, for all my perfect imperfection. That I was somehow wrong, or deficient, or mean. Because that’s how this dynamic works.

And then it got me angry. Angry thinking about the ten thousand and two phone calls I’d made over the years which (with malice) got ignored. Angry that I was being affected in this way. Angry that my wonderful day filled with snuggles with the Babes, and delight at him having learned to crawl, and time spent with friends, and eating yummy food, watching movies, was interrupted. Angry at myself for letting anger in. A little scared that the darkness (from within) might come back full-force, when I’d fought so hard, for so long, to step back into the light, and to remember me. Angry that someone might still possibly, after so much hurt, be willing to, and capable of, hurting me more. So for a moment, in my unsteady, I panicked. A little.

And then I got my shit together. Well, I had a glass of wine, and then I got my shit together. I remembered WHY I wasn’t answering the phone. I remembered that my choice to not answer was not malicious, or unkind, it was an act of self-preservation, and self love. It was me, putting myself first, which I DID NOT do, for too long. No matter the impetus for the calls, it is simply, kindly, lovingly, NOT my problem. Whether there was pure intention, or the desire to manipulate, or the possibility of cruelty, none of it is of my world anymore.

After another (unanswered) call last night, which did not cause me to become unsteady, I became grateful for the calls. Grateful that I was given the opportunity to have proven out that I am indeed becoming as strong as I think I am. Which doesn’t make me impervious to sticks and stones, and with the understanding that bumps in the road aren’t things which I will glide over, without feeling them. Its likely that there will be other moments of unsteady in my future, from various occurrences, related to my past, or not. I accept that. But I’m up from the ashes now. I’m a more awesome version of myself. I’m a dope soul! And I DID THIS! I chose light. I chose love. I chose glitter, lollipops and ice cream cones, rainbows and unicorns, shiny sparkling music, everything magical, and beautiful. Cupcakes and mother fuckin’ Care Bears! Because that’s who I’ve always been, and this is the world in which I’ve always belonged.

For what it’s worth, to anyone who may see this post who needs it, when you get the calls from your past, and you will, do yourself a favor, don’t answer. Love yourself more than you love the idea of the love you thought you had, which hurt you so terribly. And if you get unsteady, or panic, for a moment or longer, don’t be hard on yourself. Just another wave, and you’re more than strong enough, graceful enough, to ride it.

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Listening to Cold Driven “Now That I’m Gone”

 

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