July 9, 2002
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When I quit writing last night, with that image in my mind of my adorable nearly-four-year-old Marie torn apart because she couldn’t have both of the “mommies” she loved, I was hurting. It’s just as LuckyStars supposes: there is some pain involved in pulling these old buried memories out of their closet. Like surgery without anaesthetic, like debriding a wound so it can heal cleanly, this is not an easy process.
Still, I am gaining something here. Keeping this stuff locked inside doesn’t give me a chance to heal the wounds. I’ve been wounded ‘way long enough, guys. If it hurts you to read it, then maybe you should read someone else’s stuff. But I know how compelling stories such as this can be and I don’t expect many of you to turn away from this.
Each time I come to a place where it simply hurts too much to go on, I stop. I breathe deeply and turn to other matters while my subconscious processing goes on. Revisiting my past mistakes lets me reassess things in the light of wisdom and insight gained over the course of four decades. It all looks very different from here and now.
The woman I was then hated herself. Now I love her, and I love me, and yes, it does sometimes feel like we’re not the same person. But I know we are–I am–I have experienced all this time with continuity, even though in this episodic life of mine I have put on and discarded many personae. In the period of time I’m writing about, I made up a lot of fantasy-lives for myself. I pretended to be what I wasn’t, because I didn’t like what I was. I don’t have to do that any more.
Now I have a couple of reviews to post. Then there are more of those pesky household tasks to do. I expect to get back to the saga of my younger self sometime this evening. Thank you for the feedback everyone. I have long wanted this story to be told. I’ve had many people tell me, after hearing small bits of it, that I should “write a book.” With your help, it’s getting done now. Yea, Xanga!
Comments (8)
I know that this must be painful, but hopefully it will be cathartic for you.
I know I will read whatever you feel like posting next.
eh…I just want you to know that when I meant painful to read, I meant that in the extent that, as a parent, the thought of saying goodbye, and as someone who has made some disasterous life-choices…it’s painful. Painful in that you’re evoking in me some memories I’ve hashed over and over but haven’t quite come to the stage of letting go. I admire your ability to lay it all out. I know it’s cathartic for you and that affirmation isn’t what you’re seeking yet it “don’t hurt” neither.
Keep it up because, at least for me, it helps to know that others have tried their damndest to screw up royally but have emerged relatively normal…(define normal)…heh. I’ll be reading…
As I read this, I couldn’t help think that you are under the impression a lot of people reading this are reading it simply because it is like seeing the scattered remains of a new wreck on the highway. I don’t know what compells each of your readers, but for me the draw to your words is the elegance with which you share such deep emotion, the brutal honesty and the areas where I can find either myself or ways to understand others. -Kristy
Love.
I like the comparison to debrading a wound. *nods* Very appropriate, and demonstrative of the process I think.
I think I’ve mentioned this before.If not,I Love your stories, good, bad and the ugly. Not just for reading about your fascinating life. Deeper still, for the emotions your memories stir up in the reader. It makes them think about more than whats just under their nose. For a moment they reflect back on some of their own poor choices.
So often they’ll come back and say “I remember when…” This is a good thing, because if even for a moment we stop doing the automatic, by rote daily activities. We pause and reflect. Even if only for a moment we stop the hamster on its endless wheel going no where. To be in the moment.Breathe… Maybe even smile, just a little bit.
in my family and my tribe they give children to other family members when a mother feels overwhelmed with her own life. It was a common practice and the government is trying to stop it up North. My youngest sister is one of these children my cousin gave to my parents. This kind of thing is so not foreign to me what is foreign is how blame is put on a mother for making a good choice for their child. My new friend C gave her child up when she was strug out and young and is glad she did. but now is in a place to heal and regain a relationship.
This is powerful for you to be able to share it…
I am sure it still hurts sometimes but You did the right thing… I am sure you know.
BIG HUGS
Kathy, powerful stories, told by a powerful story teller. To be able to confront the past so eloquently is a gift you share well. I don’t check Xanga very much, so when you continue your story, and if you remember, will be msg me on FB, please?
I am glad you directed me here. I have a Xanga account, but don’t post. I blog at http://bigsurkate.wordpress.com
You know me as Kate Novoa on FB.
bigsurkate