Could Be…

When I was in the emergency room with my sister, my mind was racing a million miles a minute.  During my intake where they took my vitals, I kept going on about how much I hated my dad and that I was going to “slit his throat for what he did to me”.  That is not something I am ready to talk about, nor am I proud of saying that out loud.  This has been on my mind, and I was out of my mind.  I believe repressed issues come to the surface when you are at your most vulnerable.

I digress…

I was sitting in the tiny room with my sister, Zaftig Zelot, and she was trying to keep me calm and make sense of what I was saying.  I talked a lot about the New World Order and 9/11 being an inside job.  I also talked about how people apply for jobs they want to do and they get paid to do them.  For some reason, this concept seemed beyond my grasp.  Oh, and I also thought the U.S. government aborted all male babies.  I have no idea where that idea came from.  Not one of my shining moments.  Hell, the whole experience was not a shining moment for me.

During this time in the little room, I voiced the idea that I was afraid I had hurt someone.  I wasn’t sure what was happening and I was speaking jibberish, but my sister honed in on my statement of hurting someone.  I think she knew in her heart of hearts that I wasn’t capable of hurting anyone, but given my current state, she wasn’t totally sure.  I scared myself.  I remember saying, “I think I may have hurt someone…”  My mind was racing, trying to figure out if I had hit someone with my car or had gotten into a physical altercation with someone and I was coming up with nothing.  She let the topic drop.  I let the topic drop.

Around that time, I tried to escape from that little room.  The security guard came after me and spoke reassuring words to me, but prior to her catching up to me, I had this extreme fear that I was going to be shot in the head and killed dead.  Everything was so scary.  That, of course, wasn’t the case, but it was a real fear for me.  I was in a busy hospital in the emergency room and it was chaotic.  Nothing seemed organized and having to wait on doctors to see me took an eternity and no time at all.

What I am trying to say is that everyone is capable of causing harm to other people.  Emotionally, physically,…whatever.  When you don’t know which end is up, it makes you question your own kindness toward others.  I was in that twilight state where certain things seemed like reality and nothing was actually reality.  I had been coasting along on adrenaline and mania for a while, I just didn’t realize it at the time.

My sister recently said to me that after she left me that night, she mourned her friend.  She felt very selfish, but she wanted her friend back.  I couldn’t agree more, I wanted to be back, if I knew where back was.  She shouldn’t feel selfish or bad for feeling that way, I was not myself and it was new and scary and no one knew what was going to happen moving forward.  She needed her friend and I was currently checked out into la-la land, with no map to get back to home.

I have to live with the fact that I said and did things that hurt a lot of people.  I never did hurt anyone physically (thank God), but my words and actions cut deep for a lot of people.  I went from being dynamic to the not-to-be-trusted list in a short matter of time.  I am not proud of this and I have spent a large time of my recovery making amends.  I guess it’s a little like when someone goes into a rehab program – you have to make amends for your actions.  Actions hurt people and I can’t undo the hurt I did, I can only apologize and try to be better moving forward.

I have been better moving forward, and I think that is one of my biggest accomplishments.  I hope I can continue to do my best for my loved ones in the future.

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Mush

Picasso

I have been away from writing for about a week now, as family has been in town visiting and I haven’t really had a chance to sit down and collect my thoughts.  It has created a bit of writers block for me and I’m feeling a bit frustrated, but I feel the need to get the creative juices flowing and put some words down on virtual paper.

I want to tell my story right.  I want it to make sense, in word, and chronologically accurate.  It is extremely frustrating because I have big lapses in my memory and the events that I do remember seem to get jumbled.  I simply must sit down and write down what I remember with real pen and paper, so that I have material to tell you about and I can cross off things that I have already talked about – I don’t want you to get bored!

What I am saying is that I want to get this right.  I want my story to be coherent and be compelling because I need to tell my story.  I want to tell my story.

So, please forgive my word folly today.  I just wanted to write something, anything, in order to do a mental sweep of the few cobwebs that built up during the past week.  I’m hoping this little free-writing experiment has helped me tap into something more substantial.