Chances are, if you’ve come in touch with me and shared a part of my life be it with love, friendship or interactions online, it is more than likely you could be part of my story. I exercise restraint and judgement mind you, but every connection and experience is a word and line.
Over the course of the past 15 years, I have spent a great deal of time sharing my life online. It has brought me many wonderful, cathartic moments and connected me to some amazing people. I wrote here quite a bit and then I just didn’t. It’s not like it wasn’t within good reason – you know, 3 huge relocations in less than 5 years will do that to you, but it went past the change of location.
They say when things get the hardest or when major life events occur is when you realize who your friends really are. I saw it when I ended up in the hospital at a very young age, when I got married, when Reza was born, when we had to move away and the moves that followed. That saying is incredibly and painfully true. With time comes growth, evolution within ones self – Life Happens.
But somewhere along the lines things started to change. You never realize that things are changing until you get to the point where they already have. Sometimes it takes days, months, sometimes it takes years for you to notice. You spend your time so focused on the forward and now, and the blindness of your love for a person tunes you out to the reality that they are pushing you away. So I got pushed away. All of a sudden I became one of those screws you put in your junk drawer, or the nostalgic broken toy on Andy’s shelf sitting around waiting to be played with and loved. Waiting for the day that never came and eventually would never come.
It’s an interesting situation to be put in the place of wanting answers you will never get. I don’t wish that on anyone. Lack of closure is a cancer that chips away at your soul if you let it and it is an incredibly hard pill, a giant horse sized antibiotic with no water. When the veil is lifted, when you see the ugly corpse bride underneath, you can’t un-see it anymore. I saw it and it is a cruel reality.
There comes a time where you realize that sometimes you are not put anywhere near the pedestal you give others. When you merge all of the puzzle pieces, times and scores only to realize you’re not even worth the fucking bronze medal when in your heart you’ve tried to be everything for gold. So this is where I am, trying to make peace within myself to move on. Trying to control the heartbreak of loss, the overwhelming sadness and anger when you’re made feel that what and who you are is so garbage worthy that you aren’t even worth an explanation or truth.
I have never lived my life in a manner of concealment. I have shared some amazing, glorious, painful and horrible truths about myself. My loves, passions, anger and shame. I’ve admitted I was wrong and I have apologized for it. I’ve celebrated my successes. I have welcomed you into my fold. I have poured out my words over coffee and tears on this screen or in conversation. I’ve lifted my shirt so you can see the scars. I have exposed my weaknesses and vulnerabilities. I’ve done it in private circles, with my nearest and dearest, and I’ve done it with complete and total strangers. I believe in being honest and forthright, especially when people are asking the questions. And before I used to do it openly without no abandon, with calculation or risk and without the false sense of safety that comes with blocks and filters.
And then I stopped.
Sure, I may trip or even fall along the way – but don’t we all? The pain sets in, you get up, brush the dirt off your wound and move on.
But something changed….
And it wasn’t me.
It took me a long time to get to this point and honestly, it has taken a lot longer than it should have gone on. I currently am rummaging in the pile of my own ashes only slowly emerging into a better version of myself. I am doing the work and I am not doing it alone because I see and acknowledge the pillars that have stuck around to help hold up my house, not the fair-weathered wood with termites on the insides and only looks pretty from one angle.
I have nothing to hide because who I am and where I have been is a line in the book I am writing, a book I will continue to write till I take my last breath. No one can keep that from me. NO ONE.
“I don’t want to become one of her blog entries”
You just did.