Wounded

vul·ner·a·ble  

/ˈvəln(ə)rəbəl/

 
Adjective
  1. Exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally: “we were in a vulnerable position”.
  2. (of a partnership) Liable to higher penalties, either by convention or through having won one game toward a rubber.

I saw a wounded deer crossing the street this morning.  It was limping across someone’s front yard.  It was moving very slowly and hyper aware of its surroundings.  It made me very sad.  I could empathize with that deer.

I’m vulnerable.  I’ve been hit by a metaphorical car over the past few years and it has wreaked havoc on my life.  It has left me limping across the months and years.  Much like that deer I was trudging along, in pain, looking for home.  Completely alone.

There are days when I wake up and feel as if its all ok.  I feel that the day will be amazing and that I will be able to forget the past, and then something triggers a memory.  The memory is almost debilitating.  I freeze and swallow back the tears.  I get angry that I can’t let go.  I turn around and walk away and hope that the next time it will be easier.

It’s not though.  Yes, I’ve gone to therapy.  I still do.  I wake up with a positive attitude and tell myself that I can forget the past and move forward.  Some days it works.  Other days I’m just a bucket of anger and resentment, with word daggers at the ready.

I just want to run from the reminders.  Take all of the memories and hide them in a place where I can never find them.  I want to rebuild my fragile emotions and start fresh. 

Most of all though, I wish that that metaphorical car never came along.  I wish that I didn’t have to learn this lesson.  I wish I could just stop beating myself up, day after day.

Some days it just seems that to look forward, I have to change everything.  Today is not that day.  Tomorrow…maybe.

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2 thoughts on “Wounded

  1. “I wish I could just stop beating myself up, day after day.”

    Wow, Maria. I ca SO relate. I’ve tried the running, too. And, the hiding. And many other short-term remedies. But, they’re always just that: short-term. And your final conclusion—the one about having to change everything to move on—was impossible, for me. Should you choose that method, I hope you have better luck with it.

    One of the things that ended helping me was when I realized my encounter with the car, while temporarily devastating and debilitating, didn’t (necessarily) have to be the event that took me out. It was when I was willing to admit some of my lingering woe was being caused by my tenacious hold on believing that the accident should have taken me out that I began to see the original encounter with it in a new light.

    Because, it didn’t take me out; not all the way. I’m still here, and I believe there’s a reason for that. And I believe the reason(s) does not include being miserable, anymore. It was, in some ways, my poor reaction to the accident that had me all knotted up, inside. I’ve worked hard to stop thinking of myself exclusively in relation to that old encounter—some of it was of my own making, anyway—and try, now, to see myself as worthy, really worthy of living a happier life.

    And, I believe the same… for you. [=

    • Wise words. Truly wise words. I know that my tenacious hold is damaging me as well. It’s the forgetting, and letting go, that is proving to be insurmountable on some days. It will work out.

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