About Me Meme - Day 8 (Back Posted/Tuesday)
Day 08 - A moment, in great detail
It's so hard to pick a singular moment. My life is made up of millions of millions of millions of them. New ones adding to them with each passing moment, and I look back across the waves of them and how should I pick? The ones that stand out, the clearest visions, and most deeply felt emotions, whether happy or sad.
Only one person answered my earlier post and I'm taking the prompt that most made me want to shy away from it: Talk about the moment you left your parents house and was truly on your own.
I can remember that night so clearly. I'd been told it would be better for my mother's marriage if I left. No amount of knowledge that it was part of her then recuperation from other things at the time, can change the potency or authenticity of first memories or their worth. The moment I left my parents house and was truly on my own was three nights later.
I was laying on the white-grey carpet, nothing like my bedrooms', of the room supposedly mine for the next nine months. Everything that I owned was in boxes, and stacked up they all fit inside the closet that supposedly belonged to me. And they were. In the closet. Leaving my room entirely barrel. My desk and my bed were there, but I lay on the floor.
Writing this entry in a spiral because there was no wireless yet.
Because I didn't want to move. Because I didn't understand. Anything.
I was so intensely lost that night. So barren and confused.
I felt so small no one would miss me, so broken I didn't understand the word trust in what felt like a shockingly unprepared for free fall. Or betrayal. And I felt entirely helpless before Brinna's kindness in her offer and standing by it, and in not knowing how to be in one piece enough to be grateful without bursting into tears because the idea of trusting her was obliterated.
It's moments like this one I shy away from talking about sometimes. Because I don't want to hurt my Mother and I don't always like talking in grand detail about my most lost moments, but they are the ones I look back on.
I titled that entry The First Day of the Rest of my Life the way I do a few things that change everything. How terrifying and painful that day was. And how long ago now. But without it I never could have become the person I am today or been gifted so many of the brightest moments I wrested from life between it and where I am now.
It's so hard to pick a singular moment. My life is made up of millions of millions of millions of them. New ones adding to them with each passing moment, and I look back across the waves of them and how should I pick? The ones that stand out, the clearest visions, and most deeply felt emotions, whether happy or sad.
Only one person answered my earlier post and I'm taking the prompt that most made me want to shy away from it: Talk about the moment you left your parents house and was truly on your own.
I can remember that night so clearly. I'd been told it would be better for my mother's marriage if I left. No amount of knowledge that it was part of her then recuperation from other things at the time, can change the potency or authenticity of first memories or their worth. The moment I left my parents house and was truly on my own was three nights later.
I was laying on the white-grey carpet, nothing like my bedrooms', of the room supposedly mine for the next nine months. Everything that I owned was in boxes, and stacked up they all fit inside the closet that supposedly belonged to me. And they were. In the closet. Leaving my room entirely barrel. My desk and my bed were there, but I lay on the floor.
Writing this entry in a spiral because there was no wireless yet.
Because I didn't want to move. Because I didn't understand. Anything.
I was so intensely lost that night. So barren and confused.
I felt so small no one would miss me, so broken I didn't understand the word trust in what felt like a shockingly unprepared for free fall. Or betrayal. And I felt entirely helpless before Brinna's kindness in her offer and standing by it, and in not knowing how to be in one piece enough to be grateful without bursting into tears because the idea of trusting her was obliterated.
It's moments like this one I shy away from talking about sometimes. Because I don't want to hurt my Mother and I don't always like talking in grand detail about my most lost moments, but they are the ones I look back on.
I titled that entry The First Day of the Rest of my Life the way I do a few things that change everything. How terrifying and painful that day was. And how long ago now. But without it I never could have become the person I am today or been gifted so many of the brightest moments I wrested from life between it and where I am now.