yes, yet another excerpt lol. somewhat flippant, but what follows is quite serious.
I am facing the certain loss of my assistantship, but feel little qualms about it. Once more, I am completely on my own. What this means is that, once again, I am not at the whim of something beyond my own performance. In this case, the assistantship was tied to obligations that were not contingent on my work performance, but on someone else and rules that had nothing to do with my performance. This way, I am back to where I prefer to be.
On the way home yesterday, I was rejoicing about the fact that I fought the urge to buy alcohol successfully. In keeping with what works for me, I put it in symbolic language. We once again found the freedom to face hell on our terms. We are finally free to face hell. The freedom is not so much from the cycle of alcohol dependency, though significant, as it is the freedom from the cycle of suppression. We once more found our freedom to rebuild our life on our terms. Our life. Our choice.
It is still so very scary. I know it will get bad again because the memories still have to be dealt with. The memories are going to be debilitating, but only in the short-term. What was lost at the hospital was our emerging ground that we had developed near the close of the previous year. It was still so very tentative and fragile, then the hospital happened. Seeing Lady Theo there in ICU, with all the equipment attached to her, knowing she wanted to die…it was almost too much. That scene with the cop is what put me over the edge. I don’t know if it was bait regression, or total regression. Either way, all that we had fought for was lost the weekend of 7, January.
It is bizarre. Five years ago, I drank to silence the screams I could not yet hear. Eight months ago I drank to silence the screams I knew existed, but had not yet made the connection. Two months ago, I drank to die. Perhaps the drinking of five years ago saved my sanity because I would have been unable to process the truth of my distant past. Had it surfaced then, on top of the trauma of losing my former wife, there is no telling what would have happened. Eight months ago I began a journey I knew well…isolation, abandonment, and alcohol. Now, I look back and am amazed that I survived any of it.
The tenacity of a survivor does have limits. Had I truly tripped and went the final step, I know I would not be here now. My Father never left me. After that night five years ago, I knew he had always been there. He could not have prevented any final step on my part for it would have violated my free will, even though I was not myself. Perhaps that is part of the reason why he constantly intervened. Had I been in my right mind, I never would have been on the journey I was. Now, I stand with Little Theo and Little Warrior. We stand once more to face lies of the hell our abusers tried to create and tried to cast us into. We found our ground once more. We found each other again.
The ground of our recovery is the integrity of the bond we are forging to reconnect what our abusers sought to rend. They fragmented our memories and our emotions leaving us isolated from each other. They sought to render us animals devoid of freedom to stand and embrace the horizon. They failed. Little Theo protected all three of us by carrying an overwhelming burden that would have crippled an adult. Even then, Iron Balls existed.
There is so much that seems so clear now. I finally see what others have seen in me for so long. Tenacity. Compassion. Faith. Humanity. There is more, but I am finally starting to own it myself. We embrace what we see now as the truth of who we are and what can become together, by choice. No longer are we groping in the dark for answers we could never find on our own. The switch has been thrown, and we find we have been in the same room all along.
I will fall again. I know this. There is too much to relearn to approach this with false bravado. The difference is that we have found each other again. We hear each other again. We stand together again. The past almost won two months ago when we were plunged once more into the maelstrom of the defenseless past of thirty-four years ago. Once again, as they always will, they failed. Evil cannot remain buried. True justice cries out too loudly for it to remain so. Justice? Breaking the silence. Evil resides only in suffering silence. Let evil now quail before the screams of the innocents, for the voices now resound. We are heard.
- It is gift, and gift will find its way
- I inherit through my choice. I build through my affirmation. It is through my freedom that I nurture, or fade into autonomy
- I was not given to serve life, but to embrace it