Wednesday, July 3, 2013

About Me- An Enchanted Rabbit Hole Part 2

Trigger warning: Sexual Abuse, PTSD, Flashbacks

Photo taken by ren
I wandered through the abandoned ghost town of dusty memories. This time was different. I didn't simply visit that old dusty town, I began to rip the wood off the bared up windows. Sorting through the memories felt like a showdown at the OK corral in my head.

My spiral began December of 1985 and ended September 18, 1987. In December 1985, a friend from grade school committed suicide. Two months later, February 1986, a friend from church committed suicide.  In May, a classmate accidentally drowned while helping a family with their boat. Another friend from church crashed a motorcycle into a parked van in June. He was in critical condition for weeks. The final straw arrived in November 1986, a mentor and brilliant musician from church committed suicide.

Photo taken by PatriciaEGreen
Fall of 1986 found me in the first year of college. Struggling through sociology class, I chose to write a paper about suicide for extra credit. As I delved into the whys and wherefores of the choices my friends made, a tragic chain of events loomed.  I met a boy as I researched. The acquaintance turned into harassment that bordered on stalking. I in my own oblivion, did not recognize the danger.

One night under a beautiful December sky, my boyfriend wanted to defend me. I would not allow it. He demanded, “When are you going to stop letting people walk all over you?”

A switch flipped in my head and I crumbled into his lap. A childhood memory flooded my consciousness with overwhelming sensations. An uncle crossed the line of innocence. My body no longer belonged to me. I lived in it, but my uncle owned it. As I relived that moment, my reality was challenged. I did not have the tools to navigate any of it. Home life had its own reality and often my inner self was not my own. Within this Wonderland reality and truth did not always coexist.  Sanity held together by thin threads frayed to reveal a gaping black hole.

Photo taken by alanmort
To say that I was a mess was an understatement. At 19, attempting to be an adult is mind shifting enough; introduce life altering incidents with a dash of questionable reality. This perfect recipe of disaster turned me into Chernobyl.

An unfortunate casualty in all of this was my boyfriend. He powerlessly watched as my sanity slipped away. In the madness, choices were made. Irreparable damage was done. 

Near the bottom of this rabbit hole, a truth was found: I would never be the person he needed. I didn't even know if I would survive. We both wanted to make different choices than our parents. In my attempt to recover and heal, I was destroying him. An amicable or gracious exit was impossible.   

A confrontation transpired in Wonderland about my boyfriend. Authorities spoke their judgment. Enveloped by their reality I could not hold onto what I believed to be true. The more I fought for truth, the more my grip on reality slipped. I had to survive. I had to live. I would get back to truth at another time.

Photo taken by hotblack
 I had to let him go. Insanity tempered reason in the break up. I spoke  horrible things about him. Those words were hurtful to him and his reputation. My private meltdown became public and there were many casualties.   

September 18, 1987 is when The Counting Mutant and his friendship entered. His stability anchored me as I found my way back. He calmly and logically guided me in what was truth and what was Wonderland. His objectivity gave strength as I moved into reality. I didn't have to pretend. I was entitled to my own existence. He helped me see I was in possession of my healing. I was the author of my life’s story. Through that Mutant, Divine Love was concrete to me.

Thoughts wander to boy left behind. I wish him all the happiness our loving Creator has for him. I will hang onto this truth: In order for he and I to become the people we wanted to become, we needed to walk different paths. Travel well my friend, wherever you are.  

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