First, I do my best impression of a professional mourner at my own funeral. I may seem to be sitting with you, enjoying the conversation, but inside I’m a white hot ball of chest-pounding, self-flagellating liquid fury, grief and resentment.
No, it’s nothing you’ve done. It’s me. Or it is now, anyway. I learned it very, very early in life. There comes a point though, when you don’t get to blame anyone but yourself.
Holding a grudge is like taking rat poison and expecting the rat to die. But first, I must bathe in the poison. I’m like that chinchilla I saw in a pet store once only instead of corkscrewing at top-speed through cedar shavings, I’m whipping around in toxic goo. I’m reveling and splashing like a kid in a mud puddle.
Not that you can see any of this happening, of course. I’m quite stealthy about it. Practice makes…. something….
I’ve done a thorough job of it, too. If you’re going to do something, give it your all, I say. Go big or go home. Well, I’m going to toot my own horn here. I’ve gone big. And, I’ve managed to keep my claws in it for years to boot! How’s that for a cherry on top?
I’m on the verge of giggles. It may seem slightly tinged with hysteria, but hey a good laugh is still a good laugh. It’s a gift to find oneself ha-ha and uh-oh funny.
I would tell you not to worry. That the only person I’m really hurting is myself. But that would be a lie. That much pain and resentment affects other people. I’m sorry.
I’m also on the verge of letting go. Of forgiving. Of asking for forgiveness.
Can I do it?
Susan Scot Fry
When I write about things that are tough, I paint myself with harsh, broad strokes. It’s usually an emphatic statement, couched in the sugar of humor. This extreme pendulum swing allows me to work my way back to something softer and gentler. It’s how I work.
These posts make it hard to believe that I’m a loving and positive person, but that’s okay. That’s not the point. I’m a person who feels things intensely, so when the darker aspects of myself come to the surface they do so in an intense fashion.
This post generated some wonderful support from people. I felt like I was heard. What I learned is that it’s easier to process all this now. I feel like I am not alone in my need to move on. Regardless of the details, there’s a universal understanding of the situation.
That’s significant. I’ve spent a lifetime alone, struggling to connect. We all do, really. We need each other in order to figure things out. Thanks for helping me figure things out.