Slaying my own dragon, in my own damn time!
It’s Sunday, 22 July 2012 and I am 98 days’ clean. My Facebook status update reads this:
“Day #98 – on the brink of a milestone, and simply sitting back to take a deep breath. No more running to catch up – who do I want to catch, anyway? I’m done with rushing on drugs, so why spend my time rushing the healing? Day by day, hour by hour, the road will be travelled.”
In conversations with my sister, and brother-in-law, while we were away on holiday, I came to realise that I am not keeping true to my goal of being honest with myself, of feeling, where I need to. By this I merely mean that when it comes to Cris, I feel that I need to rush off a letter to him, to make amends, as per the Narcotics Anonymous programme, I need to put to bed, finally, my realisations that Cris is a conman: emotionally, financially, honestly, sexually – he conned me for a long, long time, and I let him. In accepting my own role in my recent downfall, I am rushing to be angry with him, to resent him, and to forgive him, rushing from pillar to post so that I tick off every box, say what needs to be said, accept what is true and consign to the past what is dead and needs to be buried – but in all that I leave no place to feel – to FEEL – what needs to be felt.
So rushing through the healing process is no different to being drugged out of my mind, immune to life, and the feelings, the emotions and the responsibilities it calls me to action on its behalf.
Slow. Down. And breathe. There are so many good things happening, and so much support, and still so much more of both, to come – I am safe. I am healing. I AM healing, and I have the luxury of time, safety, and perspective to deal with the truth of Cris, to deal with the responsibilities I have to myself, first, and then to him, in making amends.
And these amends are not to him, per se, but to me, about him, to him. If that makes any sense – and it should. You see, I know I am not blameless, but I also know that doesn’t give him the right to use me, abuse me, to lie to me and hurt me, to take advantage of me. In the same way that all of these give me no right to hate him, to have used him and lied to him.
The waters were very muddied, by the state of our minds; the carrot on a stick we held out to each other, and the insecurities we both harboured about life, and ourselves. I am trying to simplify all that, all those years, to understand why it went so wrong, why it had to be the one thing that I didn’t want to sacrifice but that was the only thing that had to be sacrificed in order to begin the healing.
It is simple, and there is a simple analysis out there, and I will get to it, when I am ready. For now, I accept that some days I am going to hurt, about Cris’ lies and the lies I told him. Some days I am going to be angry, for how he conned me emotionally, and out of a lot of money. And I am going to be angry some days, for letting myself be conned. Some days, I will miss him, and some days I will remember the love that still lingers if not for him, then for the idea of him. Some days I will feel resentment, and shame, and those days I will fight, for regret and humility are far better than resentment and shame, and I have nothing to resent or to be ashamed about; I have a ton to regret and to be humbled by, and I can work with these as foundations for my new life.
No need to rush, the eighteen years I spent high on drugs are not wasted, they are the foundation of the story I weave in this reality, so that I can better understand how to help myself, and how my story will help my family come together, and how our story can help others, in whatever way it can.
And Cris, when the time comes, will know of my healing, and know healing for himself.
The road will be travelled.
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