Loss in the Month of December
It is so hard sometimes to find out who people really are.
Especially people you admire. Especially people who are mentoring or helping
you. Especially if you find out bad things.
The last month of the year 2014 has been particularly
painful. Several months of me being unemployed and searching for the right
career home had finally ended, and after barely surviving financially—and I do
mean barely, we had just let ourselves breathe. Note to self: exhale with
caution in the future.
We were behind on everything—bills, Christmas, anniversary
pictures that we usually have done in November—all of it. But it all seemed
like it was going to be ok, finally.
Then, I was kind. We were kind.
We were kind to someone whom I had already started to doubt,
and that gnawing doubt felt awful. I wanted to deny it, but it wouldn't go away.
For the last year, I had finally made some
progress in my writing, particularly for my book, in workshops and through
guidance and support-- and the very person who had been a key part of that, who I had thought so much of, turned out
to have a different side, and I had seen it. I was pulling back, but one last
time, I got pulled in again. And that one last time cost us dearly.
Emotionally, financially, and for me, something went dark afterwards.
The first loss is too painful to write about here. It was the
worst and most emotional.
The second loss--all the confidence I had felt in my writing-- swirled
away in that one day; a mad rush of all the positive words and moments
throughout the last year that were tied to those classes and interactions—all of
it got sucked into a black hole and poof! it was gone. Almost instantly. I
couldn’t associate any of it as good or true if it came from that person who I
now knew as not a good person—even a really bad person. And what did it say about me
if I had been fooled or charmed by someone who told me things that may or may
not have been true? How hungry was I for compliments and positive feedback?
Then, what if it was real? What if she meant those things? What did it matter if it
came from her? All that I had learned, all that I found valuable—the things I had
written, the progress I had made—the notes, the time, the lessons—I wanted
nothing to do with it.
It wasn't just drama or emotion. The writing that I have been
doing is so personal, and the most important thing to me has always been that I
am doing the right thing in the right way. Now, so much of it feels wrong, especially if
the inspiration and guidance has come from someone I now feel is just really,
at the core, not a good person.
So what of all this good vs. bad? Who am I really? I can
tell you that I have done a lot of soul searching in the last month, and that’s
saying a lot, because I feel that in my 45 years I have done my damn share of
that already. But really. I asked myself over and over if I am truly kind and
what motivates me and if I am a good person. What motivates me to be that? Do I
want praise for it? Do I want some kind of reward?
I can remember my mom promising me over and over when I was
a little girl, that if I was a good person, good things would happen for me.
She would lay the whole thing out—in detail. That if I would do well in school,
behave, not get into any bad things-- that I would meet a prince charming-type
guy, get married, have lots of money, no worries, and lots of babies, and be
happy forever. She would get so excited telling me this. I asked her one day if
she had always been good, and without a beat, she said “yes”. I remember my
little seven-year-old self, standing there on our green linoleum kitchen floor
and I looked around and said, “But you don’t have all of those things”. She didn’t know what to say. She was clearly
annoyed and told me to go play or do something else. I was worried even then. I
already saw how the world worked-- or didn’t work--and I didn’t like my odds.
But I wasn’t playing for the odds. I wasn’t trying to win a game. I couldn’t
live with myself if I wasn’t nice or kind, or didn’t do the right thing. I didn’t
understand how people just did whatever they wanted with little regard for the
consequences. I actually envied those people—and at times— I still do. How did they not worry or fret about things all the time the way I did?
So, the sequence of events that started on December 12
seemed to keep going. We ended up financially wiped out, suffering a huge loss
to our family, and then having to further deal with someone who each day just seemed to show me how foolish I had been to trust or believe or be kind to them in the first place. It was both painful and humbling.
Then other little things kept happening, and I honestly felt
like I was going to lose it. I was driving home from a work meeting, in a rain
storm, and I was stopped at a red light. I was actually sitting in my car
thinking perhaps we had gotten through the worst of it. Then – BAM! A car rear-ended me. Seriously. In the second after it
happened, I actually laughed and said out loud- “You have to be fucking kidding
me.”
It felt like a hard hit. I motioned in my rear-view mirror for
the person to pull out of traffic with me into a parking lot. I feared the
person would just drive off, but she didn’t. As I waited for her to pull in
behind me, I thought- I have had it. I am
going to let this woman have it. I am not going to be nice, screw being nice.
I actually got out of my car and slammed my door and almost
ran into a woman a little shorter than me, already pleading her case, already
in tears. I heard at least one kid crying in her car. She had been Christmas
shopping, she was distracted. It was her fault, she was so sorry. Was I alright?—she
should have asked that first. She was sorry.
She stood in front of me, defeated…in a Santa hat.
My car was fine. The woman was apologizing, pointing to a
small dot on my bumper that I couldn’t see, as we were both getting drenched in
the rain. She didn’t do anything on purpose. It was an accident. It was life.
And no matter what had happened to me in the last few days, I couldn’t be
horrible. I couldn’t be unkind.
I told her to let me drive home and make sure everything was
ok, but not to worry, I didn’t think there was a problem. She stood there
relieved and we exchanged information. We started to walk away and she asked if
she could hug me. She didn’t wait for an answer. As she hugged me, she said, “You
are a good person, thank you. Merry Christmas!”
I got back in my car, let her drive away, and started to
cry. I don’t know if I am a good person. I don’t. I know that it hurts me if
someone mistreats an animal, or a child, or another human being. I know that I
lose sleep over these things. I know that I am not perfect. I know that I am
not always kind, and that bothers me, especially when I slip and say the wrong
thing in the wrong moment—or when I think I have hurt someone.
I know that in December of 2014, I lost a little part of
myself and it will take a long time to get it back. That may not be a bad
thing, but I think it is a sad thing. I won’t go out of my way to trust or help
as easily for a long time, if ever. It was just too costly. But I will hold
those dear to me a little closer.
I haven’t revisited my book, and I honestly don't know if I
will. I can’t imagine it at the moment. It breaks my heart. I was just so far
down that path and in that mindset; it is hard to go another way. I will see
what the new year brings.
That’s all I can do for now as the year comes to a close,
and as I say goodbye to December…and all that I lost. Wait and see what the new year brings.
Artwork: Head and Heart by Charlotte Salomon
