High on that Mountain

The memory is a tricky beast.  There are days I can’t remember where I put my keys or if I took my medicine. My memory fails me often. I like having my head injury excuse so people don’t think I’m an air head,  If I’m tired or stressed out then my mind takes a vacation. The crazy thing is I can bring something out of left field that happened twenty years ago with the right trigger.

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I’ve done a great job over the years burying the things that ripped me to pieces. My early adulthood was plagued with one tragedy after the next.   I know I’m not the only person to know loss and heartache. I felt that I had a little bit more than my fair share of it though.  My early twenties sucked.  I don’t know how in the hell I survived them but I managed to come out of them jaded as all get out.  I spent so much time running from the pain that I made it worse. I just wanted to forget and pretend none of those horrible things happened. I did for a while but life has a way of taking you back to the places you never want to see again.

I sat in a funeral home Friday to pay my respects to family members that had experienced a loss.  I sat in front of a life long friend from school.  She knew the man who had passed away and I had only met him once. I made sure my friend was doing ok through the service. I was ok until a particular song played. I was instantly 21 and I was at the funeral of my boyfriend Chance. It was such an odd feeling seeing everything change in my mind’s eye.  I felt the pain again. It was crushing. I cried as I felt the whole thing happen again. One song triggered the pain I so desperately buried.  Poor Windy was sitting behind me and she was sent back to the funeral of her brother.

chance

I avoid that particular song at all costs but I couldn’t runaway this time. I endured three minutes of pure hell that I could not block out.  I guess it was time for me to confront that demon. I was ok once the song was over. I don’t know why sometimes we are forced to relive the things that hurt the most.  Maybe its meant to show us that we were not broken by it?  I have no idea but it seems to happen during other trials in my life.  I guess its life’s way of saying “Do you remember when this happened? It did not break you so why do you think this will be any different?”

I hope that one day I will find peace with all the things I’ve buried so deep.  There are good memories that I should not bury just because of the tragic event associated with the people I lost. I guess I am thankful for the times I am forced to deal with the past. I should start digging before the good memories I need to treasure instead of block are lost.

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