I decided i really needed to write down these questions before i forget them.
How do you get past knowing that you were a jerk to someone you love? As usual, i think of addicts in recovery and wonder, how do they get past the fact that they hurt people that loved them and how do they forgive themselves? I wasn't an addict but i equate myself with someone out of control.
How do i know when i've cried enough tears? How many tears does it take to heal me? When will the crying stop?
When do i know that therapy is complete and that i'm done with it?
How do you become okay with the person you are rather than bemoan the fact that you're not the person you wish you were?
How can i want to be somebody that i know is absolutely NOT me?
How do i make myself feel? How do i crack myself open? How do you make the memories not so painful anymore?
I cried during the movie, "(500) Days of Summer." Not because of what was happening on the screen, but because i don't know who i am and i wish i were the characters onscreen.
I had a gasping for air, crying, sledgehammer to the chest moment on Sunday night. Crossing the street to browse the DVD blowout shop i saw the street corner where my mom and Maxi had been watching the Halloween parade. I saw it and i saw her, happy and mischievous, wearing her silly mask, making me put it on. I walked quickly past the shop and just kept walking, trying to catch my breath, to catch myself, to walk it off and will the pain away. Got as far as 16th street before i slowed down and just surrendered to the exhaustion of holding it all in. I slipped into zombie mode, taking small, labored, unsteady steps. I headed toward Whole Foods, needing a destination and hoping the memories would go away. That feeling still, STILL catches me by surprise. WHAM! Smack in the chest, obliterating my ribs. I can't believe that my heart literally hurts. It wants to explode and i think i need to catch it before it bursts out of my body.
Why does it always happen in the middle of the street, in the middle of a store, in the middle of a subway platform? I always act swiftly to hold myself together. But i think that i probably shouldn't. Maybe i should find someplace to go where i can let it all spill out. Let the blood pour out rather than pressing my hand on the wound to stop it.
I KNOW i have to hurt. I'm trying to let it be okay but i still resist crying. I guess i'm too cowardly right now. I don't want to hurt anymore.
Where does my grief end and my search for a purpose begin? How do i cut myself a break but force myself to work hard at this, at the same time? I have to be the person my mother wanted me to be and believed i could be. How do i stop myself from ever feeling fear again?
What's the formula for turning darkness into light, fear into hope, emptiness into meaning and despair into joy? I want to be "broken open" just like the people in the book i'm reading.
She's gone and i'm here. My mom started a new life, in a new country, at age 33. I just turned that age, where is my new country? I need to be as fearless as she was. Or as faithful and hopeful. She always called me her "obra maestra." I need to honor her and live a purpose-driven life.
But right now i just need to let myself cry.
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