I realized this morning that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go back to church, and it makes me very sad. I want to be wrong, but the anxiety has gotten worse since that day a few weeks ago when I realized that something very personal had been shared without my permission.
There’s nothing I can do to change it. And, in reality, it’s my fault for being stupid and sharing…for being stupid and believing the words “nothing you can share will change anything” and “I’m not going anywhere.”
I knew better than to talk. I knew better.
Just when I felt a corner had been turned, I found myself inconsolable, overwrought with grief. Not just over past memories and hurts, but also over recent ones, events and slaps that still sting strongly. A broken foot has left me immobile and basically trapped with my thoughts and the realities I generally work so hard to avoid.
At times, I feel like that child stuck in an adult world back then, surrounded by darkness and drowning in pain and terror with no hope of escape. For the past two months I’ve been treading some deep waters of facing memories and events and lies with the objectivity and light of today. There’s no more romance or nostalgia left for those days, only bleak reality and shame for what happened then, and how it impacts now whether I choose to acknowledge it or not.
And I know better than to talk about it. I know better.
Grief is a cruel thing. Tomorrow marks an anniversary that brings me both relief and stark fear, and there’s no one I can whisper either to anymore. There was a moment earlier today when thinking about it all that the losses, the cumulative losses of the past two and a half years, seem incalculable…and it feels large and bottomless.
I realized (and stupidly email a friend about it) earlier this week that I (1) do not understand love; and (2) am afraid of love because it is inextricably tied to pain and/or loss. I already know on some level that what I just stated is not true, but it’s not quite as simple as it sounds in that statement. Love and pain, love and loss are not the mirror images. I need to detangle those misperceptions despite the evidence I can bring to the table.
There’s much uncertainty in my life these days, and has been for the past several months. Couple uncertainty with loss and my world can get very dark very fast, and I can feel the pull back into the comfort of old habits, even if they’re bad ones.
But I also know I cannot go back there into that temporary shelter, no matter how tempting.