LJ Idol -- Week 8 entry
When I returned, I was met with silence and distance from everyone I knew, and even those I didn’t know. For three years, I had been missing from their lives; vanished one day on the whim of naive and immature mistakes. I still remember the 4am ride to the airport. It’s not something I do.
And then I came back, broken in the mind and gutted in the spirit. But nobody cared because it wasn’t something that could be physically seen. I looked normal enough, so I must be. For all they knew, I was off on vacation instead of the hell that it was. I tried to talk about those missing years, but the conversation was always shut down or told to get over it and move on. Just forget about it. But I couldn’t.
It’s always in these moments when you seriously evaluate the people that you know and whether they should even remain in your life. Who will stay with you to look at the stars? Who will be that ear to listen? Who will finally look you in the eyes and say, “tell me what happened?”
Solitude has been one of the greatest things to me. What I originally saw as negative was actually a catalyst for my recovery. It’s hard to recover inwardly when always going here and there with this friend or that, always engrossed in petty things with no time for actual substance. The entire board was wiped clean and I had plenty of time to ponder.
While they went about their lives, I distracted myself in the day and cried myself dry at night. While others dived into new relationships, I studied and learned all I could. I never stopped. It was cathartic to me. And then, those new relationships began to turn sour. I studied that, too. I began to pick up the red flags where they didn’t or refused to. Some spiraled downward into familiar territory that I knew all too well and others ... simply vanished. I let them. It was just their time to step out of my life. Some of them hurt, yes, but diving back into studying helped.
I learned that it was not my job to care, it was not my job at all to force things, to beg, to plead, to stay. It was an obligation to my own self-preservation to not do any of those things.
The learning continued.
It would continue for two solid years. Language has become more than simple communication and what’s being said is just as important as what isn’t. What is the true message coiled and hissing just between the lines? Body behavior is also important. Do they stand confidently, arrogantly? Do they shy away and is it genuine or a ruse? Where the world sees an old woman struggling up the stairs, what is *really* going on behind those grey eyes? Though she says “thank you” with her lips, is she really cussing the person out in the most bitter, hateful venom in her mind?
I’ve learned not to miss the company of people. Being only human myself, there are days when I do, though it’s hard to miss things you never had. The usual cliches and the wistful fantasies of having actual, genuine companionships whispers through my being at times, but then I blink and remember my reality. It’s different from everyone else’s, because it’s mine. It’s the only truth I know. Sometimes, I wish I could’ve remained ignorant of it all and be able to just see people and believe that everyone has good in them. But when you hear news stories of mothers hanging their children in closets, of husbands killing their wives, of the evil that I saw with my own eyes, it’s impossible to go back. And every time I hear of those things, I know, I’m reminded of my reality and what those things are. They’re not people anymore, they’re something else, something darker, and they expose themselves by their deeds.
Two years of ceaseless learning and I am healed of the general inward damage. But this long road has only just begun. I will never stop learning and I will never stop telling my story, but only to those that care to listen. Everyone else can kind of sod off; I’m not here for them. I’m here for the people that were just as broken as me and broken in the same ways. I’m here to offer *them* a bit of hope, should they decide to take it. And I truly do believe that, about hope -- it’s all I’ve ever held on to and it’s never failed me yet.
“Hey, haven’t seen you in quite a long time. You’ve changed.”
No comment.
And then I came back, broken in the mind and gutted in the spirit. But nobody cared because it wasn’t something that could be physically seen. I looked normal enough, so I must be. For all they knew, I was off on vacation instead of the hell that it was. I tried to talk about those missing years, but the conversation was always shut down or told to get over it and move on. Just forget about it. But I couldn’t.
It’s always in these moments when you seriously evaluate the people that you know and whether they should even remain in your life. Who will stay with you to look at the stars? Who will be that ear to listen? Who will finally look you in the eyes and say, “tell me what happened?”
Solitude has been one of the greatest things to me. What I originally saw as negative was actually a catalyst for my recovery. It’s hard to recover inwardly when always going here and there with this friend or that, always engrossed in petty things with no time for actual substance. The entire board was wiped clean and I had plenty of time to ponder.
While they went about their lives, I distracted myself in the day and cried myself dry at night. While others dived into new relationships, I studied and learned all I could. I never stopped. It was cathartic to me. And then, those new relationships began to turn sour. I studied that, too. I began to pick up the red flags where they didn’t or refused to. Some spiraled downward into familiar territory that I knew all too well and others ... simply vanished. I let them. It was just their time to step out of my life. Some of them hurt, yes, but diving back into studying helped.
I learned that it was not my job to care, it was not my job at all to force things, to beg, to plead, to stay. It was an obligation to my own self-preservation to not do any of those things.
The learning continued.
It would continue for two solid years. Language has become more than simple communication and what’s being said is just as important as what isn’t. What is the true message coiled and hissing just between the lines? Body behavior is also important. Do they stand confidently, arrogantly? Do they shy away and is it genuine or a ruse? Where the world sees an old woman struggling up the stairs, what is *really* going on behind those grey eyes? Though she says “thank you” with her lips, is she really cussing the person out in the most bitter, hateful venom in her mind?
I’ve learned not to miss the company of people. Being only human myself, there are days when I do, though it’s hard to miss things you never had. The usual cliches and the wistful fantasies of having actual, genuine companionships whispers through my being at times, but then I blink and remember my reality. It’s different from everyone else’s, because it’s mine. It’s the only truth I know. Sometimes, I wish I could’ve remained ignorant of it all and be able to just see people and believe that everyone has good in them. But when you hear news stories of mothers hanging their children in closets, of husbands killing their wives, of the evil that I saw with my own eyes, it’s impossible to go back. And every time I hear of those things, I know, I’m reminded of my reality and what those things are. They’re not people anymore, they’re something else, something darker, and they expose themselves by their deeds.
Two years of ceaseless learning and I am healed of the general inward damage. But this long road has only just begun. I will never stop learning and I will never stop telling my story, but only to those that care to listen. Everyone else can kind of sod off; I’m not here for them. I’m here for the people that were just as broken as me and broken in the same ways. I’m here to offer *them* a bit of hope, should they decide to take it. And I truly do believe that, about hope -- it’s all I’ve ever held on to and it’s never failed me yet.
“Hey, haven’t seen you in quite a long time. You’ve changed.”
No comment.