It is so weird and painful to read horrible things I wrote years ago.  Also, beautiful.  I hadn’t done it for over a year, and to just yesterday and today go and read through old entries- so much pain, SO much anger and brokenness.  It makes me so beyond thankful for God’s forgiveness.  I was a really nasty person.  I think everything in life- the way I was raised, my lack of a God, the physicality in which I existed so alone…. just brought me to that point of misery and despair and anger.  I cringe when I read those old entries.  This one got to me.  It’s clear and honest and so much pain in the details of it and the LIVING of it.  It has become so clear that this journey of life is a mystery.  We truly never know what the future holds.  We think we do.  We think we know our path, our life.  But as I read these old things, I was SO out of touch with reality.

Am I different now?  Do I get the reality of life’s unpredictability?  Do I still think I know what the future holds?

I like to think I am different….. that I accept and know that I DON’T KNOW.  It makes me smile.  Not knowing and trusting God’s plan and path brings this odd, beautiful, peace and joy.

Old me would never have understood.  And that’s ok, because old me needed to be broken and rebuilt.  Reading about the realities of him seeing prostitutes.  Paying for sex, when all I wanted was his physical closeness.  It hurts.  Badly.  I think of what life is like “now” and it is different.  He is here.  Like, present with me in life.

I think of how he looked, how he smiled (it was like an unsmile cringe smile), how he distanced himself physically from me, us, even when I tried to draw him in.  He is a different man, a literally physically different heart.  A different, beautiful attitude and way of living.

Sometimes it is good to remember the pain.  In small doses.  I don’t know if I will ever be desensitized to it, it will always hurt to remember, as it should.  When it was all coming out, I was drunk.  I was drinking by 2:00 back then.  A few glasses in before the kids got home.  Just to “take the edge off.”  Except that it did not stop there, it took the edge off, so more would take more edge off.  And then things wouldn’t hurt so bad.  I needed something to take away the pain and my darling friend Alcohol was always there for me, to do just that.

Now… now that I’m done covering everything up with alcohol… now that I’m done and NOT taking the edge off- it’s all actually still right there.  Waiting for me to acknowledge, deal with in a non-drunk way… problems and pain and hurt don’t go away when you ignore them.  Funny how that works.

 

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