I believe I will always be sad about the things that have happened in my life that hurt me. I think that's okay. Those things are sad.
I've changed my focus the past few days. I wanted to look at me.
As a young girl I was placed in a horrifying position. I felt pain and confusion that terrified me. I was lonely beyond anything I could comprehend. I felt completely abandoned. I responded with destructive, but, I think understandable coping habits. But-- in time I was able to discontinue most of those habits, and without help. I did it on my own. I was determined to achieve all that I possibly could. I have beaten the odds many times. I have residual problems, but I am alive and whole.
As a child I longed for love from a mother who had no reserves to give me. My efforts to give love to her were met with criticism, ridicule, or physical abuse. As a result I am reticent about sharing myself with others. I am certain that I will be rejected. I feel that my love is of little worth. But-- I don't allow this to stop me from loving others. I love with my entire being. In spite of the fear that my love is unwanted, I give it freely. I refuse to allow my past to keep me from sharing myself with others. I am certain if I keep trying, that one day I'll be able to believe again that my love is magic and can somehow change a life, even if that life is my own.
A combination of traumatic experiences has left me with PTSD. The most frustrating aspect of this is that I find it very difficult to maintain close friendships. Frequently I feel overwhelmed by the knowledge that someone knows me. I find myself wanting to isolate or stop talking. The compulsion to "test" the friendship feels inescapable, and with that compulsion comes the certainty that no one would ever wish to stay in the type of friendship where one friend (me) is always insecure and fairly unpredictable. But-- I keep trying. I'm certain that one day I'll get it right. And I've had the blessing of friends who have, thus far, tolerated my behavior and encouraged me to continue working to overcome it. Some of those friendships have lasted more than 2 years (for me--an eternity), and I no longer expect that Darrin will leave me. In fact I'm guessing he might stay forever. I like that.
As I've faced the reality that the things in my past cannot be changed, I've found myself doubting every reason I had for living my life in the way that I've chosen. I felt that my life was useless, that everything I had fought for had no basis. It seemed melodramatic, but was, nonetheless, how I felt. I wanted so badly to change things, to have a happily-ever-after. To confront my past and find it less daunting than I remembered. It was, in fact, more so.
Yesterday the ache dulled. I no longer cared that I had lost a non-existent battle. I wandered through the day feeling empty, but at peace. I slept with no nightmares.
This morning I encountered the beautiful sunrise. It lasted a long time and spread over the entire sky. I recalled how as a child, I had lived for the sunset at night after a trying day, and after acutely painful nights, I sometimes arose and waited for a gorgeous sunrise to remind me that beauty still existed. I spent hours walking the fields and mountains behind my house, filled with wonder as I watched the life and smelled the scents around me, and for just a moment I escaped from the sadness and loneliness threatening to consume me.
I don't know why I was given the experiences I have had. I do know that each person's choice is sacred--even when it hurts another person.
And so today I will accept whatever love my mother can offer me. It may not be as I wish, but it will still be love. I will lay my aching and sorrow at my Savior's feet--finally--because carrying it has become too much for me, and I am too tired to do so any longer. I will allow myself to be loved by Him, and eventually, to be healed by Him, because it is all that is left for me to do. He cannot change my past. I am praying that He can heal my future. I have done all that I can do. The rest is up to Him.
I have lost my endless energy. I am no longer driven and full of purpose. I feel powerless to care. And so, for now, I think I'll rest. Maybe it's okay to let someone else do the work for awhile. Someday, though, I would like to cry with someone who will cry with me, because sorrow shared seems manageable, somehow, and I think letting out some of the sad that's inside me would feel better.