As I was going through boxes in the garage, carefully attempting to KonMari’ying my way through the things that have been stored there for at least 2 years, I found a card in what looked like an evidence bag.
It threw me into a tunnel down memory lane. Not the pleasant memories that bring back images of birthday cake or dinner with friends. This memory was sour and ashen, reminiscent of what you find in the chimney the day after burning way too many logs. It was rancid with regret and soaked in dried up droplets of fear.
You see…a long time ago, in a land not-so-far away there lived a girl. Who met a boy. Who wasn’t who he said he was. Who managed to lead multiple lives until one day he no longer could. And then the girl realized that for almost 6 years of her life, she’d been living in a make believe land with a make believe person that was neither nice nor good.
This story would take a book to explain and in all honesty, I’m afraid there are pieces of this story lost to me because the trauma of what happened has managed to take an eraser to the edges of my memory in such a finite way. It is a miracle that I am still here. It is a miracle that more damage was not done.
I was broken down, I was isolated, I was emotionally manipulated. All these things I allowed. And yes, I could go breakdown the specifics, make excuses. The daddy issues, the depression at my entire family having suddenly moved away, the questionable decisions I was making in life. But it’s a matter of taking responsibility and accepting what has happened rather than wallowing in it and continuing to play victim.
In those boxes, I found a card sent to me by a man I did not truly know. He sent it to my job because he did not have my home address. And he did not sign his name. Rather, he signed it with the name of my tattoo. It was creepy as hell because I had not had contact with him and he had been…indisposed. And I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t attempt to physically see me. (Spoiler: about a year later he did try.)
Why is this coming up now?
Sometimes, in the midst of the storm, in the middle of whatever fresh shenanigans you find yourself in, you get a chance to look back and TRULY see how far you’ve come, the other roads that you could’ve found yourself on and the understanding that you might not be where you think you “should” be but you sure as hell aren’t back there!
I suppose you want to know more about “the man I never knew”. I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about him yet. Mostly because I don’t know where to begin the tale.
Know this: my faith grew by leaps and bounds due to my interactions with him, I came out of it mentally and spiritually stronger than I was when I went into it and though I had been systematically programmed to ignore or question my instinct, I realized the importance that your gut plays in every interaction you have. You just need to time it, train it and trust it.
The card went in the trash. It’s where it belongs. It served its purpose. It didn’t scare me, it didn’t made me feel sad, it didn’t fill me with regret. It reminded me of how strong I am. Of how far I’ve come. It reminded me that I have a purpose and filled me with a deep sense of gratitude.
You see, not everything that’s supposed to destroy you does. A good portion of the time, it just makes those broken parts of you fit better.
There are lots of great news in the midst, good people. I hope to be able to share it all with you soon. I’m not blogging as much this summer but you can still find my thoughts and tomfoolery on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.