So I finally unpacked today.
Yeah, you heard me right. Don't judge.
I have good days and I have bad days. When they are good, there's love and happiness and puppies and smiles and laughs. When they are bad....there's anger and frustration and tears and confusion.
Confusion. A lot.
The worst is when I am alone. Particularly when I am lying in bed at night trying to fall asleep. For the first month or two after I got home, I had some serious insomnia that was more than likely a subconcious attempt to not be in that position to lie awake and think.
As time went on, I began to forgive myself a little bit more each day. I got myself some melatonin and Bach's sleep remedy and peppermint tea to help with the over-thinking in the night. I am by no means complete yet, but I am working on it. Baby Steps.
Some of you out there may have no idea why I am so 'hung up' on these friends from Ross. I can understand, I really only knew them for less than a year when I left. Logic says the bond can't possibly be that strong. I have friends that I have known since high school; we rarely see each other, speak sporadically, and that's just how it works. I'm not sure why this time it is different, why these people are different. It could be the struggles we shared, the support they gave me (and continue to give), the intimacy in which we played out our lives. When we moved down to that island, we all left everything we knew and loved and held dear.
All we had was each other.
And when I came home, I had nothing. Or so it felt.
I realize quoting a show like Grey's Anatomy at a time like this may lead to a perception that my previous words are not as serious as they seem. Please do not allow that thought to enter your mind. Because as the little old lady tried to die to satisfy the schedules of her terribly distracted relatives, she said to the frustrated doctor:
They are my people.
People keep you going.
People are better are than no people.
And I had to work very hard to hold back tears gushing from my eyes This is why I still mourn the loss of my people. And yet every day these same people continue to reinforce the belief that it was not in any way a loss by their continued communication and support and love. And that is why I love them.
Last night I had a very serious and completely wonderful conversation with my friend Karen about our fears and depression and Basket Full O Crazy (that last part might have been more me). In the end, we made the promise to try and see something beautiful in each day. Totally cheesy awesome goal to have, and I decided that today my beautiful would be my room. Or more importantly, the potential of my room once all three bags were unpacked and stored properly.
So yes. Today I unpacked my bags.
It was cathartic and necessary and revealing and slightly torturous. There were moments when I had to stop; a sweet note from Jen, a shirt I bought in The Circus with Kristin, the little doctor bear JoAnne gave me before I left, my stethoscope. All reasons I didn't unpack earlier. And all things that had to be dealt with.
So like I said. I have good days, and I have bad days. Today was an interesting blend of both.
My life right now can be summed up with Alex's parting words on Grey's. Perhaps I should get one of their writers on retainer, this shit is pretty good. They're probably the same people who work for the Quoteable Cards company.
Trauma is what pushes us forwards.
Maybe we have to get a little messed up.
Before we can step up.
And by the way, I am completely and utterly ruined for any future man due to Derek Shepherd in the elevator with the CT scans. For serious. Fuckers. Screw giving them a retainer after all.
