I ummed and ahhhed about posting this, but I really do need to get it out of my system.
A few days ago, a member questioned whether she could post something personal. She was concerned that it could upset other members.
At the time, I couldn’t think what could possibly upset us and I’m sure it would be fine…and said so. So the story was told.
On reading it, I was shocked to notice that it was very similar to something that happened to me many years ago. A quick rush to the loo to throw up and was a wreck for the rest of the day.
I didn’t want to say anything at the time, for a number of reasons. I didn’t want her to feel in the slightest bit guilty for posting, nor did I want any attention drawn away from her at this time.
What shocked me the most was how extreme my reaction was. It was so long ago, and I really thought I had come to terms with it all and laid it to rest. In those days, counselling wasn’t really ever considered. Blame was apportioned to the woman, so I buried it deep inside and told very few people.
Strangely, I have mentioned this time in my life on another forum, without any problem. Perhaps because it was coming from me, I was prepared. This time it was a bolt out of the blue, and it hit straight in between the eyes
My mother and father were very much in love. When he died very suddenly, my mother was left with 3 young teens. I was almost embarrassed at how heroic she was. How she held her head high and got on with it.
Years later, her second husband died. She also loved him, but not as intensely as my father. She completely went to pieces. She called for my father. It was as if she grieved for him all over again and properly this time
It was right that this poster felt she could relate her story, but it did make me wonder about whether we ever truly get over things? It’s a bit like the chickweed in my garden. I think I’ve won the battle. Nothing is showing, there are black sheets under the earth covering up any residual seeds or roots, yet every now and again…up it pops.
I always thought this sad period in my life strengthened me; made me more resilient and empathetic, but I wonder. Who would I have been had this and other things had not happened? If I haven’t really come to terms with it myself, could it be that the strength I can appear to show in other areas of my life are all fake…all a big act?
Would I be happier with my life? I do think that I really learnt to appreciate the good times, having experienced the bad, so maybe I would be less mixed up, but unable to appreciate it.
Anyway, as I say…been mulling over this the last few days. Just had to get this out of my system so I can move on once again.
Meanwhile. Dentist due in 2 hours. Have to have another 2 teeth out. Getting more and more nervous each time this happens, and it’s really bad timing on this occasion. Send some positive vibes that I don’t come out black and blue like before.
A few days ago, a member questioned whether she could post something personal. She was concerned that it could upset other members.
At the time, I couldn’t think what could possibly upset us and I’m sure it would be fine…and said so. So the story was told.
On reading it, I was shocked to notice that it was very similar to something that happened to me many years ago. A quick rush to the loo to throw up and was a wreck for the rest of the day.
I didn’t want to say anything at the time, for a number of reasons. I didn’t want her to feel in the slightest bit guilty for posting, nor did I want any attention drawn away from her at this time.
What shocked me the most was how extreme my reaction was. It was so long ago, and I really thought I had come to terms with it all and laid it to rest. In those days, counselling wasn’t really ever considered. Blame was apportioned to the woman, so I buried it deep inside and told very few people.
Strangely, I have mentioned this time in my life on another forum, without any problem. Perhaps because it was coming from me, I was prepared. This time it was a bolt out of the blue, and it hit straight in between the eyes
My mother and father were very much in love. When he died very suddenly, my mother was left with 3 young teens. I was almost embarrassed at how heroic she was. How she held her head high and got on with it.
Years later, her second husband died. She also loved him, but not as intensely as my father. She completely went to pieces. She called for my father. It was as if she grieved for him all over again and properly this time
It was right that this poster felt she could relate her story, but it did make me wonder about whether we ever truly get over things? It’s a bit like the chickweed in my garden. I think I’ve won the battle. Nothing is showing, there are black sheets under the earth covering up any residual seeds or roots, yet every now and again…up it pops.
I always thought this sad period in my life strengthened me; made me more resilient and empathetic, but I wonder. Who would I have been had this and other things had not happened? If I haven’t really come to terms with it myself, could it be that the strength I can appear to show in other areas of my life are all fake…all a big act?
Would I be happier with my life? I do think that I really learnt to appreciate the good times, having experienced the bad, so maybe I would be less mixed up, but unable to appreciate it.
Anyway, as I say…been mulling over this the last few days. Just had to get this out of my system so I can move on once again.
Meanwhile. Dentist due in 2 hours. Have to have another 2 teeth out. Getting more and more nervous each time this happens, and it’s really bad timing on this occasion. Send some positive vibes that I don’t come out black and blue like before.