Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Dear Kelly

As I repost my old diary, it occurs to me I'll eventually run across conversations and entries involving you.

Addressing it here, before anyone gets their panties in a wad, seems fitting and right.

I stand by every word of my last written communication to you.

You may want to know I've not, for even a moment, regretted permanently cutting you from my life. It took doing so to see clearly how desperate you were for me to not recover. When you, a "singleton" who surrounded herself with multiples, specifically chose a therapist familiar with DID, I knew the end of our time as friends was nearing an end. I could never reconcile the need to seek therapy for the diagnosis of others.

During the period between you saying you needed time to decide my worth as a friend and my decision not to wait for someone else to judge my worth, I was able to look at our time as friends and the similar experiences shared by others who had been close to you. It made evident the step I needed to take for myself and my health crystal clear. Anyone who would see the death of my brother, the grief for a loved one and the effort to reconnect with family as a way to personally hide from "All the horrible things they did" is someone who doesn't want me to reconcile with my past, much less learn to forgive and let go. Anyone who would feel personally offended my alters never sought her out to say goodbye before my integration is someone who utterly fails to grasp their role in the individual recovery of another.

I'll never again allow such attitudes in my life.

The closer I came to wholeness, the more you tried to cling to the broken parts of me.

You're not a bad person. You're just someone who needed to be needed and to feel as if you were the stronger, healthier one. You needed to focus on the wounds in others to help hide from your own.You needed to be more important than family and to vicariously share in holding onto hate for one's parents. I hope having just such a person in your life now has brought you the vindication you so seemed to need.

When it dawned on me, as my grand daughter played happily with Floppy, that the long ago gift of a stuffed dog hadn't brought you to mind in years, I knew I was free of you.

This letter is a last goodbye. I may, from time to time, mention your name in conversation with others you tried to draw into your net of false safety... but not as the focus of conversation. Your memory and influence in my life is a long ago chapter and this letter, the last footnote.

With the writing of this letter, I choose to free myself from the regret of knowing you. I can move forward in editing old writing with the knowledge your memory will create not a twinge.

There's too much good in my life to hold even that slice of negative.


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