December 28, 2007 / Toronto
Strung
along by Hope
I’m
allowing my soul to die. I stand at its bed side and watch it languish away. I
should ring the bell for help. Summon the nurse, but my hands remain stiff at
my sides. My feet are fixed. Hope does this to me.
This was a time of deep sadness, depression and disconnection. My frame of mind is so different now that looking back at these few words I had penned, seem entirely strange and unlike me. I don't disbelieve them. On the contrary, I remember this period of my life vividly. But why and how I had sunk so low, I can't explain. Of course, the obvious answer is my traumatic separation from Raphael, but the intensity of the reaction to this situation, I seemed to have no control over.
I have long accepted that my state of mind is easily influenced by external circumstances. As a people pleaser, if someone close to me is not happy with me, then it must be my fault. At least this used to be the case. It's difficult to be objective about one's emotional self. Raphael and I came together again towards the end of 2008 and we have been together ever since -- and everyday with him brings happiness and contentment. So grounded and at peace am I, that I am convinced that it is all my doing. That it is a result of my emotional growth and maturity. But what would happen, if he were removed from my life again?
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