Brave Enough To Be Bliss

coming from my body telling my brain to get me the hell out of there. But being the professional I told myself I was, I just stood there with the corners of my mouth turned slightly upward on my face so no one would know what was going on inside of me. But if anyone had looked deeply in my eyes, I believe they would have seen terror. After leaving Andrea’s office, I sat in my car for nearly an hour trying to process what had just happened. I believe I sent a text to John, not to tell him what had happened, but he is just who I desperately wanted to talk to when I was upset or happy. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him as my go -to person, because I still wished he was. If we had been close at that time, I do believe I would have called to tell him I needed him, but we weren’t, and I told myself it was way too much to ask of someone who didn’t even want to be my friend. But I did need him. I knew he would be able to talk me through it like he had done with other things when I thought I couldn’t face the pain. He asked me questions; he assured me I could do hard things. When he was there for me, I felt like everything would be OK. It was nice to have someone else tell me that instead of just telling myself when I didn’t have an appointment with Ginger . I believed him because he believed in me. Sitting there, alone with my tears, I needed him desperately, so why didn’t I just call and tell him that? Why was it so hard to say, I need you? Why did I tell myself he wouldn’t be there for me , when nothing about the past indicated he wouldn’t be if I communicated the need clearly to him? Why did I choose to remain alone, when I wholeheartedly believed he would have been there as soon as humanly possible if I had said, “I’m crying. I feel very sad. I think something awful happened to me when I was little, and I need to talk about it. I need you.” It was a bicycle accident moment for me, but I refused to ask for help and instead suffered in silence. He had demonstrated how to be vulnerable and ask for help. He had shown me how to trust. He had been there for me the couple times I had specifically asked for help. So why not now? Why didn’t I tell him how desperately I needed him ? Why didn’t I give him a chance to show up for me? And now, having asked all those questions for the very first time as I wrote them. I understand why. I didn’t feel I deserved him. He gave me the chance to be there for him when his mom passed away , and I wasn’t there for him. And even if I didn’t realize it at the time, now that I had, I was carrying the sham e. I didn’t deserve him to be there for me when I hadn’t been there for him. I wanted to believe I could just move forward, knowing it may have happened but it wasn’t a reflection of me, and that would be it. I accepted something happened and surely that would be enough. But it’s been weighing on my mind while I’ve been in Michigan for the past three weeks writing. Anytime I think about it, I start crying, like when Andrea asked me about it. The tears just start flowing and it’s hard to stop them. I know without a doubt that whatever happened back then wasn’t my fault. It doesn’t ma ke me unlovable, and I have people I can count on to help me get through whatever memories may eventually surface. And yet knowing all of that wasn’t enough to keep me from having the most intense physical response to a discussion since I’ve been working with Ginger. I decided to discuss it with Ginger when we had a virtual appointment. I began telling her I hadn’t remembered any more details, but just beginning the discussion was making my heart race and pound. I was feeling shaky throughout my body, and it felt hard to breathe. I told Ginger I was feeling very uneasy in my body and she quickly said we needed to put that discussion on hold until I returned from Michigan, where we could meet in person and I wouldn’t be isolated after our appointment .

“There is no greater journey than the one that you must take to discover all of the mysteries that lie within you.” Michelle Sandlin

Not that long ago, I would have looked at this modest little property and thought it wasn’t right for me. But now, it felt like a perfect fit in all its imperfection. I felt safety, warmth, and comfort there. Those feelings provided enough peace that I learned there were a few remaining Ginger 1.0 dark spaces within me. They desperately wanted to upgrade to Ginger 2.0 as that version was so much lighter and brighter. They were tired of the dark, damp, musty places leftover in Ginger 1.0. It was really terrible being stuck there, back in the corners. It wasn’t kind or loving there. It was lonely and restless. Simply no fun at all.

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