The Horror! The Horror!
I write most of these entries countless times in my head. By the time I sit down to put them into words I struggle. I often forget the way I phrased things. The feeling and eloquence lost to the madness of mind. This entry has been floating in and out of my mind for weeks. Depending on the day the tone could change. I want nothing more than to lie and say that I’m fine and that the darkness doesn’t creep in. Most days are great but the clawed hand that waits to pull me backwards is still there. Slowly some days and violently with blinding speed on others it creeps over my head to take me back to the madness and darkness of my past.
Four days ago I “completed” the first 3000 piece puzzle I ever bought. Hoping against hope in the final pieces I knew it was lost. 500 pieces left I knew one was missing. I could feel that it was gone. Hope that it was buried in those pieces faded on that final day as the dread washed over me. I had hoped that this puzzle would bring a sense of closure. Ending a time in my life where I’d felt trapped in this house. You see, I started this puzzle as I decide to change my life forever. As I decided it was time. Things would be different and I’d grown so tired of living in the emptiness knowing change would never come. I sorted pieces with my head phones in. The only escape after saying the D word. D I V O R C E. It shattered the life I once knew, but as a phoenix rises from ashes you must burn completely before rising. This puzzle was my own little world in the house that had become a box that contained nothing but screams with blame thrown around. Just shy of three years later hoping the final piece would seal that box shut and the piece is nowhere to be found. I searched on hands and knees only to come to the conclusion that the robot vacuum (death vac) had lived up to his name. The piece must have fallen off the table to be sucked into a dusty soulless robot. The Witch took it upon herself to trace out the hole in the puzzle. She created me my missing piece. She is my missing piece. The weekend faded into feeling completely empty and lost. The culmination of being sick (not covid) and realizing that three years (with lots of breaks) were not going to end in success and I was back to square one. It was a repeat of “failed” biscuits.
Sometimes it doesn’t take much for my brain to break. It sends me sliding into a hell of no creation. Nothing really caused it. The most minor thing, biscuits that don’t turn out well or a missing puzzle piece, leads to the feelings of being worthless. Emptiness and numbness flood in (or out?) until there’s nothing to feel. Memories of a not too distant past show themselves as a reminder of where I’ve been. Progress seems lost. Now that I’m a few days out of that I can still say that this weekend wasn’t the deepest I’ve gone. I struggle for words during the event, but I don’t want to die. I can articulate, now, that what I want is to feel. Ending the emptiness or pain is what’s desired and not death. A rope appears in the darkness. Not like before. This isn’t here to bring a negative end. The rope is here now as a tool. The tools I’ve been given show themselves as a way out now. I slowly, with the help of The Witch (soon to be Mrs. The Witch) I’m guided to speak. We spend a while getting me to talk. I start to use the tools I’ve been given to realize what I’m feeling and why. Eventually the emptiness and numbness start to fade. Replaced by the understanding and clarity that it wasn’t really closure that I wanted. It really was more about the completion of a goal. The puzzle was really nothing more than a puzzle. I knew this. In the past 6 or so years I’ve been very goal based. This puzzle was a goal that will not be fully realized. I’m coming to terms with understanding that it’s okay if a goal isn’t obtained 100%. Lessons can be learned. I can be proud of myself for reaching the goal. To be honest I’m surprised that only 1 piece was missing. The puzzle was out of the box for almost 3 years. It was moved (1/3 completed) to a different room to make room on the table for Thanksgiving last year. 1 piece missing out of 3000 over the span of 3 years isn’t a big deal at all. I still have lessons to learn.
Earlier I said Mrs. The Witch. Halloween 2020 was a Saturday and a blue full moon viewable to all US contiguous time zones. Apparently it was the first time since 1944. Halloween is special to us. We met up with friends for a masked Halloween party. In the backdrop of that party is the house you see on this blog and on thedarkartsofbaking.com. The Witch and I dressed as, well The Witch, and The Baker. We head out front to see the house. I turn and to my surprise The Witch is down on one knee. She asked me to be her “forever husband”. I said yes. The ring she gave me has the big dipper on it. The big dipper you see reminds me of home.
The update I sat down to write wasn’t necessarily this story. Yes I still have days. No I’m not 100% “healed”. I don’t believe that’s a thing. There’s always work to do. There’s always growth to be had. The last three years have brought more struggle and heart ache, but also more growth and triumph that I could have imagined. I’ve had friends accept me for me showing me that I’m worthy of being me. I found a partner willing to share their life with me the way I want to share mine with them. This blog, just shy of 1 year old, has grown from it’s minor roots and seems to be helping others. I’ve gained the tools to not slip as far down into the darkness. More importantly I’ve gained love. The love of myself and the love for and from another. To The Witch: Thank you. I love you. Asking me if I was okay was the best thing that’s happened to me. To my friends, old and new: Thank you for your support and love. Without The Witch or my friends I wouldn’t be the person I am today. To Mary: Thank you for helping give me my life back. Thank you for giving me the tools. Daniela I love you. “I know that love is worth the risk. And no matter who’s told you differently, you are worth everything. You are worth everything”.