Reflection and Chrysalis

September, 2022

Reflection and Chrysalis - Sounds like an oxymoron. Perhaps it is in a way. We will see. 

I will see. 

Reflecting - looking back, what could I have changed or done differently? Nothing.

Chrysalis - a transitional state, becoming. What shall be? that remains to be seen. To quote Rush - 'hope is epidemic, optimism spreads.' I'm going to cling onto that idea. 

Reflecting: No matter how prepared one thinks they are for a huge change, one will always look back and wonder 'what if'. The afternoon that a call came in from the doctor that had started treating Brandon's symptoms, I literally looked in the mirror after I'd brushed my teeth and put my hair into a ponytail and said to my reflection, 'your life is about to change.' I knew. He knew. WE knew. 

The drive was awful, punctuated with awkward silences in between trying to rationalize what we had an idea we would hear when we walked into that office. Long 45 minutes of feeling like you were about to walk headlong into every horrific scary movie scene possible. A walk you could not stop.

The image - I love imagery - of walking into a big empty room with a small brown wooden door at the other end is what I felt. 

You walk through the room and shadows from the stark lampshade-less light overhead follow you. As you approach the door, it opens and there is nothing but darkness beyond. You hear a silent roar inside your head that you cannot escape from, your hands are damp with sweat and you cannot stop yourself from walking through the door. You are thinking, if I scream, I can wake up, but you ARE already awake and all the scary things you imagined in your entire life are about to happen.

That is how I felt. Cannot stop entering that black within, but desperately wanting to not even approach it. We got swallowed up when we stepped inside. One story ended and a new horror began. 

Fast-forward. A year and five? months later.

Chrysalis: This is where I attempt to maintain some measure of decorum in transitioning from a couple to a single. A single who had previously been in a long-term relationship that ended abruptly. 

I have been trying on different outfits. Have not quite found one that fits me, yet.

I am coming up on four months "after" in this new period in life. I liken it to a nightmare I have, the one where you are supposed to be attending a class and taking a test - college or high school, take your pick. 

You know you should be attending it, but have no idea where your locker is, what your combination is, who your teacher is, where the class is. You have already missed several tests, it is mid-term and grades are about to come out. You are about to fail. You try and try and never find out where you are supposed to go. 

THAT is kind of how I feel right now. If you have never had that nightmare, please, call or write me. I will be happy to explain. It is awful. If I had a therapist, I am sure they could explain it all to me, but I digress. 

I am in the phase of "where do I go from here because I no longer have a road map." I am in that transitional period of being squishy, covered in goo, all tied up and pinned down in my own shell and cannot seem to find my way out. Lost. 

Part of me knows this is a process and all natural, but since I am being open here, I still cry; Sometimes it happens unexpectedly when I am out walking or driving, or in the middle of cooking, or at work. Sometimes I feel it coming and accept it and let it happen because it feels so good to just let it go. Other times, I try to quell it down because it feels inappropriate and then I get angry.

Sometimes, I feel so lost, I will queue up some music that I know will make me cry because I feel empty and needed to remember what it feels like TO have feelings. It is not every day anymore, but often enough, still. 

Part of me feels that I am a burden and I need to not share because eww, move on 

I will do that in my own time. Move on...but not in how one would imagine moving on. I will grow, but not forget.

Right now, this is my chrysalis. I am becoming. I will fly again.