This is some I wrote a few weekends ago. I was waiting to go to Costco with some friends. They had their karate class while I wrote.
April 12, 2008
Why is a question I haven’t been able to ask until just recently. It scared me too much. I didn’t want to think abou tit. Asking why makes me ask if it really was my fault.
Addressing the issue of blame requires me to consider that maybe, just maybe, it really wasn’t my fault.
I’ve heard so many people over the years tell me it wasn’t my fault. I’d argue vehemently with those people because it was so much easier to blame myself.
But now I think I’m ready to take a more objective look at my past. I’ve read the literature. I know all these things. I can tell them to other people who have had similar experiences. But I couldn’t apply it to my own life.
Wow, this is hard. It requires me to ditch my old ways of thinking. Change is rarely easy. There are always challenges to overcome.
So back to the topic of this entire post. Why? Why me? In some ways, it sounds like whining. “But God, why?” (said in a sing-song voice). However, I do think it’s a valid question and I think it’s a question that eventually needs to be addressed. Now that I think about it, asking why is one of the stages of grief.
I think it’s an issue I’m going to take slowly. I’ve been feeling stable (sort of) the last few days. My recent brush with suicidal thinking resolved itself more quickly than usual. A big part of it was the migraine I had. So I don’t want to send myself careening over an emotional ledge.
Somehow, just writing this has strangely cathartic. I need to start writing regularlly again. I got out of the habit and lost the benefit.
I also realize I didn’t really address the topic of the post. But I wanted to make a start. I need to do this in baby steps if possible.
