I ended last week’s entry with an Elizabeth Kubler Ross quote,“Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself, and know that everything in life has purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from.” This profession of belief came back and bit me in the patootie as well as challenged me in a bigger way than I have been challenged in many years. Something said, “Hey hot shot, let’s see if you can walk like you talk.” I know I haven’t. I’ve failed the test horribly. The “F” word has seared my lips so often this week, I’m thinking I am ready to make a rap video that could cause U-tube to scream EXPLICIT in flashing red letters all over the screen. My heart feels like it’s ready to explode most of the time: I bounce between sleepless nights and 14 hours of sleep. My body is exhausted from the tremendous amount of energy it takes to feel so much rage and hatred.... and I don’t like it. Generally making a choice to choose to see something positive, or the lesson, works for me. Not this time. I can't justify it, turn the other cheek, minimize the damage, or fake it until I make it. It's not working. I've been brought to my knees again and I can’t recall feeling this angry about anything in a very, very, long time. Perhaps decades. I know the meaning of non-forgiveness is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die, because I am becoming sicker by the day as the venom permeates every cell in my body. Can I describe the rage I feel? Every fiber of my being is on high alert, just coiled to attack. An elephant is sitting on my chest, and I have to make a concerted effort to breath. Focusing is non-existent as the thoughts bouncing around in my head aren’t even rational and the reel to reel keeps repeating. I imagine the act and violation, and it just fuels the fires.
My little family was a victim of a robbery the previous weekend. They discovered it when they came home from what was a happy, joyful, overnighter with friends. A window in an office pried open; every drawer, closet, cupboard rifled and lifted as the invaders picked and choose, anything they perceived to be of any value. Children’s piggy banks, treasured heirloom jewelry, childrens’ religious pieces, technology games, tools, fundraiser money. Those are just a few of things that have been taken; like someone felt entitled to go on a drunken shopping spree in a private residence. I cannot wrap my mind around the profile of individuals that could do such a thing. Were they born without a morality button? They certainly can’t care about the devastation this had on the children. Or, the years of work and sacrifice of the victims as well as the generations before them, that went into the accumulation of those material possessions. Nope, I can’t even come close to understanding the mind of these monsters that trash their way into others lives wrecking havoc...destructive forces of nature, except this has nothing to do with nature. When I think of nature, I think of my God and how His presence is intertwined in all that I see in the natural world. I just can't believe He was present in this horrific act.
Every day is the day I think we will all move on. And, then the clouds move in and another item comes up MIA, lighting the fire again. I think this can’t have had a permanent impact on the little ones, yet, I know I am only kidding myself. They have witnessed firsthand the dirty little underbelly of the bit of a world and its evil, selfishness, and entitlement. They no longer feel safe in their own home, and most of all, they all, my whole family, feel horribly violated. I know enough about grief processes and I am sitting back in my own little hell and torment, witnessing each of them each traveling through very personal and familiar phases. The oldest grandchild is stuck in depression and has taken to sleeping every single moment she isn’t in school. The middle one has started to chew on and suck her thumb, something she hasn’t done since she was a baby, and the youngest will not even go into an adjacent room by herself. I know they are young, and, they will move through the process in their time and acceptance will set in leaving some breathing space for their childlike joy again. It's much more painful to watch than to experience it yourself.
But, how can I move on? This hurts so much worse than if it had happened to me... And, it actually has. Not once, but twice in my lifetime. Maybe that’s what makes it so wrenching. I know the fear, the violation, and the disappointment in discovering, it isn’t always about what kind of person you are. Bad shit happens to awesome, giving, loving people. And, bad people sometimes seem to win and come out on top. I don’t know if the things it taught me, are the things I ever wanted my little family to learn, at least not so up close and personal. I would have rather they learned it on the sidelines, from the periphery of my experiences.
Yet, I’ve lived through enough crisis and wallowed long enough in it this entire week or more, to intuitively know, there is only one thing I can do, for myself, just myself... to begin to move forward. I feel like the power of choice to control my thoughts and my attitude has been stripped away, stolen too. There is but one choice left. Today is the day I am making that choice, because I will not allow such evil and poison, to have another day inside my heart and head and control my life.
Today, is the day I am begging, “Higher Power, I am powerless over this rage and my attitude and thoughts about these individuals. I hand them and my life over to You to do with what You will. I trust Your plan and know with You all things are possible. Even forgiveness. Help me back to a place of serenity, love, and to discover the WooHoo in life again."
(This post was written cathartically... if it offends someone, I'm sorry. I need my joy back...and I am powerless to recapture it on my own)
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