Admit it, embrace it, move on.
It's not like you haven't known on some level the whole time.
It was too much like the goodbye on the railroad tracks.
"If we're gone, then maybe (fill in the blanks) will be less complicated."
There is so a giant, screaming hint there.
I let myself just write without thinking the other night... and the headache that sandwiched the writing is all too familiar. The same headache I've been fighting off and on the last 10 years... the same headache that when HSS lived here would take me out for days at a time... until I said enough and the girls and I came to an agreement.
"It's not like you need us right now. You can deal with this shit on your own."
The delusions we create for ourselves. Stephanie was right. I could deal with the shit. But the shit in question wasn't life in general and everything after that moment... it was the particular shit that was consuming our every moment at the time.
The full scale healing process wasn't done and couldn't be in the midst of such chaos.
I knew bringing myself to the point of daring to let go... of letting down my not-so-complicated-as-I-like-to-believe walls would bring with it tough stuff. What I didn't expect was the relief I felt after letting myself free write this afternoon.
I've decided on the Zoloft. The symptoms of major depression are there and if I'm going here again, I may as well do so with all available weapons.
Here's the problem...
What if we're not finished?
What if shutting down was needed at the time and opening up again means more than just me?
Does it mean I have somehow failed?
Does it mean I'm stepping backwards?
Does it mean I had to put things on hold for a time for the sake of my sanity and my family and we're now free to finish this the right way?
Does it mean that along the way my family can have the sense of closure of which they were deprived before... the chance to say goodbye?
The more I fight the desire to stay shut off... the more I sense I'm not alone... and the more I fight to stay shut off. The struggle is stealing every ounce of energy and sabotages every moment of so called rest or sleep.
How much more do I ignore before finally falling apart?
Doesn't it make more sense to face it and keep on trucking?
Am I running away in another form if I accept we aren't done and I need them to complete the work... that we need to do this together?
I'm not finished looking through the prism. I don't believe it means I'm stepping back... it means I've been in one place long enough and it's time again to move forward... to finish what we started and to do it the way it was meant to be done... for us.
I wrote this... read it... and asked Charlie if I could talk to him before I lost my nerve.
When I'd finished reading, he just looked at me with tears in his eyes and asked, "Am I supposed to be surprised? You know I had to wait until you realized this for yourself."
I didn't know whether to laugh, be offended, or to just punch his arm and call him an ass.
It's a familiar confusion and brought with it a sense of peace and hope.
Because now... now, we can really move on.