Mourning. I'm over it. Hitting January 2014 drove that home for me. I
remember lying on my living room floor on Christmas night 2010 - hubby
at work - sobbing my heart out for the two babies we lost that year.
Yes, I have 3 living, beautiful kids, but part of me is still shocked
that I couldn't physically hold on to those other tiny souls.
There were earlier losses too. Abuse in childhood. Being sent off to
boarding school at the tender age of 7. Moving a few years later to a
'home country' I'd never seen. My mother going off to work full-time,
freeing my dad to abuse even more. Bitterness and fear for me and my
siblings, followed by all kinds of emotional fallout as we lived through
and beyond separation and divorce.
Don't get me wrong, there have been plenty of good times, and I want to
talk about those too. But I guess now, tonight, at the age of 42
(really?!), I'm aware that I'm not 100% over all that stuff, and I'm so tired of it.
Lately I've been troubled by anger, bubbling not so far beneath the
surface, and it scares me. It seems stronger these days, as if
frustration is building and won't be ignored anymore. I have this sudden
strong desire to truly live - not in the shadows, not in regret, but in
freedom, with a soul swept clean.
By sheer coincidence an old friend sent me a note the other day, along
with a copy of a letter I wrote back when we were 13 or 14. I wrote the
letter to explain why I couldn't have her over to my house - because
with my dad there it just wasn't safe. I told her I couldn't sleep
at night and I needed to get help. There was something very powerful
about that call of distress from the teenage me - almost like a call to
my adult self to get whole, let go and move on before any more time is
lost.
That's where the resolve comes in. Not just another new year's
resolution, but resolve. A determination to dig out and dust off the
true self that's buried under so much junk.
This blog is part of that resolve - a blog about the process of becoming
free. It feels a little strange and awkward to be writing here, so
publicly, but hopefully that'll wear off soon!
So here we go, folks. Hang on tight, this could be a crazy ride!
In reading this one I caught a thread of my own life here Laurel. Don't want to write under my name as there are people alive whose familes could be affected by what I write. You bawled your eyes out on Christmas Day 2010 for the babies you lost. I bawled my eyes out Christmas Day 2014 for the children we never had, for innocence lost as a child that led to dysfunctional behaviour at a time when i could have carried a child, for lost relationship with my husband's children who've not had a Christmas Day with us in 17 years of marriage. So sad, very sad but the grief needed to come out ... and it did. Makes me feel not so alone to know others have experienced that deepest of griefs - the pain of loss and lost opportunities. God knows and He alone can comfort and take the pain away. It helps me to look out for the lonely in society because although I appear a sunny person on the outside, deep down I am really one of them. Thank you for your honesty.
ReplyDeleteHi there! I'm so sorry for what you've been through but so glad you shared it ... first because you've encouraged me in my decision to go ahead with the blog (I'm not just a crazy girl talking to thin air after all!). Second, because the more we share our stories, the less alone everyone feels and the more able we are to help each other grow strong. Thank you!! xx
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