I know I am not a bad person.
I also know I did a bad thing.
That’s where the different levels of knowing come into place. And why having someone sit with me and agree with me that I am a bad person is what I need. They can know it on any level they need but I need to feel the weight of all the levels. I need the release of knowing that, yes, that is what a bad person would do. That it is not ok.
I need that rush of sadness and acceptance that comes with the truth. That punch to the gut when someone calls you out.
To let the hotness of the embarrassed wash over me.
Because all these gratitudes and excuses have let me float above the truth without feeling the magnitude of what I did. I need to fully feel its impact to be able to cry and be sad over it. To be able to understand the full level of exhaustion I must have felt at that moment as I stood at the fridge. The full level of weight it took to finally break me and make me turn right towards the living room vs turn left and go to my room. Like I had done every time before.
Because in my memory I felt nothing. And I still feel nothing.
I feel the shame of knowing, the sadness of losing, the guilt for allowing and the reserve that it will never happen again. But I feel nothing when I think back on the moment as I stood at the fridge. I feel nothing after, as he pinned me on the ground. I feel nothing when they put handcuffs on me and walked me out of my nice warm house. I feel nothing as I sit in that cell unable to open the door.
I need to feel it so it never happens again.
It is unfair that you feel nothing at the same moment your soul is broken in two. Outwardly there may have been emotions projected but inside, nothing. My world moved too fast to stop and feel anything. Second by second. I imagine I looked crazed like in the movies with a contorted red face and fumes coming out my ears. But knowing myself I bet I looked calm. Like I was in complete control.
I remember once in middle school, my class took a trip to a ropes course. There was one course where you were high in the air and traversing from one wobbly rope step to the next. Each step placed slightly farther than the one before it. The last few were so far apart you had to hold on tight and use all your core and arm strength to keep from falling. I was scared to death as I moved along, it seemed impossible. I kept telling myself I couldn’t do it, it was too far, I even almost completely fell off, but I kept going and eventually made it to the end. Now why do I remember this so vividly? Because of a conversation that happened on the bus ride home.
As I sat in my seat not talking to the person next to me, feeling very alone, the guidance counselor turned around and saw me. His face lit up so much that I turned around to see who he was looking at. Nope he was looking at me. He opens his mouth and says “Amanda! I have to tell you that I have never seen anyone remain so calm on the ropes courses before! You looked unfazed by all of it. Do you even feel fear?”
WHAT?! He must have been looking at someone else! I was scared shitless.
He rambled on at me for a little bit more then turned around and talked to someone else. But I forever remember that day, I felt so proud of myself. Amanda is so strong that no one even knows when she’s scared! I am basically Wonder Woman.
And I carried that feeling with me all the way till the end. I think that is what gets me the most about last February, instead of showing how scared/overwhelmed/broken I must have been, he saw my calm face staring back at him. With my hands around his neck.
It is sad that the one thing I carried with me through life as a badge of honor is the same thing that haunts me now. He is scared of me not solely for what I did but for how intentional it must have felt.
Everyone my whole life has always told me I was so strong, that it didn’t matter what happened because I always found a way back. And I believed them so much that I thought there was nothing that could ever break me.
Until I broke myself.
Definitely did not see that coming.
I do believe that what broke that day was my soul. I think it had to. I had to break it or I’d never be able to separate myself from the scared angry little girl who thought she was impervious to pain to become whomever I will be.
I always end these random thought bursts on a positive note and I hope it doesn’t come across as pretentious or fake. I do it because even though I broke my soul, I didn’t break my heart, and my heart is what truly guides me forward.
And my heart needs to know what it felt like to be the cause of Andy’s heart breaking.
We don’t need a new mantra or find your inner acorn. Throughout all of time we have constantly evolved. No matter what side you are on, evolution or Adam and Eve, there was a starting point and then that idea was improved upon and improved upon…till today as we are still improving. Just like the wheel, which started as logs being used as a conveyer belt to adding an axel to where we are now with tires.
Each life gets an infinite number of chances to evolve. We were not destined to live one singular linear life. We were meant to take turns and chances and learn from our mistakes. Evolve who we are each day.
Chasing Calm 