as a kid i was always amazed with italian dressing, that when left it seperates into layers. i don't have a science brain, it was more the artistic division of all the ingredients, arranging themselves into nice little lines of color and sameness.
that was fascinating to me, but my favorite part was to shake it. shake it like crazy to mix it all up again, restore the flavor to the whole and allow it to be what it was meant to be.
summer was like that for me. it was a shaking of the bottle. weird and wonderful, interesting and different. last school year was a time of separating layers in my life, and summer was a gentleness break of sorts.
i'm now back to letting the bottle settle, and much is surfacing.
sitting with fear has brought much to the surface. memories and snatches of emotion are rising like bubbles through the mix of my soul. they are not comfortable ones. they are ones i'd much rather keep hidden. keep below the surface.
the feeling of having blankets pinning me in, the seizure my body has if liam's body touches mine at all while i am asleep, the clenching of every muscle from my neck to my toes, the level of panic that ensues when a door won't close or open properly, each one is a clue that a memory is surfacing.
i don't do fear well. and lately i haven't been doing sleep well. laying in bed awake is always dangerous for me. comforting myself back to sleep is a constant temptation i face. it's easier to get out of bed and read or write than it is to try to will myself back to sleep.
i have rarely allowed myself to feel fear. liam used to work crazy shifts in our early marriage, many times i slept alone down a country road, in a big, lonely farm house, but i rarely awoke in fear or worry. this morning after liam left for work i was truly alone in my home. and i heard a creaking upstairs. fear clutched at my chest. both my doors were wide open, 'did someone sneak in, are they waiting upstairs???' i panicked. terror swept through me, it's unfamiliarity tore at my emotions. logic and clear thinking were far from my mind as i locked both doors and stalked up the stairs (with a pencil in hand to poke the eyes out of my intruder.) i literally searched each room, needing to pee, but afraid that if i closed myself in the bathroom he would trap me in there (again...) i even locked the door of the bathroom when i finally did pee because i felt so unsafe.
i'm smarter than this - it feels like i'm going backwards, not in and through. i don't want to walk this path. i am so afraid. alone. seemingly unable to face these emotions without my crutches. to numb this away. god help me. i know i must. i know that i will never keep these bubbles below the surface of the water of my soul. i've been trying for far too many years and i am exhausted. tired of trying to keep them submerged.
next on my list is a phone call to my therapist. i haven't seen her professionally all summer. it was a nice break, but i can't (don't want to) do this alone. i read of many who have real live friends to go through this with - i haven't figured that part out yet. i can help others through their pain in person, but i can't seem to trust others enough to allow them to help me, or they just don't seem to care...
this blog is my lifeline right now (i don't mean that i'm suicidal or anything) but i know that there are those of you out there who have journeyed this path and have made it through. your support, prayers and example speak so profoundly into my life. thank you.