I broke down in the car yesterday.
I was fine until I pulled up a song that I’ve been listening to obsessively for nearly two weeks. I wrote about the singer in my last post, I think. Or maybe it was the post before that. Or maybe it was both posts. He’s been constantly on my mind, and I’ve cried for him I don’t know how many times. But yesterday was the hardest cry yet. Sometimes I’ve cried just for him. Sometimes for me. Sometimes for both. Yesterday was for both. He ripped open a poorly patched wound that I had stored in a dusty box under a lot of rubble in one of the dark alleyways that I avoid in my mind. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been fighting a demon that I thought was slain. It wasn’t, clearly. And thank God for Chris. I wish I could yank him back into this world, but I can’t. But God gave him a task after he died. Or maybe Chris found me on his own. This is one of those cases in which something good was fashioned out of something horrific. I’ve never been able to face my trauma. It was neither relevant nor understood well enough by anyone I’ve known, so I never asked for help outside of professional therapy.
Yesterday when I broke down in the car while listening to his song over and over, I felt an overwhelming need to tell my story. Remember the narrative I wrote about? I finished it. It probably needs a little polishing. There’s something, a grammar thing, that’s bugging the shit out of me that I need to go fix. And I’ll fix it. But my point is that my break down yesterday made me feel strongly about putting my story out there, the narrative, the part that hurts the worst to share. And I shared it—for myself, for him, for who knows who. I felt him urge me to do it.
Have you ever felt close to a dead person? Dead isn’t a good word. Moved on is a better way to put it. But he didn’t move on entirely. He came to my rescue. And heck, maybe to his own. The act of healing others heals us.
So it’s out there now. How accurately the words come across, I can’t say. It’s hard to describe intense personal experiences.
The past two weeks have been more therapeutic than any professional therapy I’ve received.
I thought I’d come share that with you. And to thank him for guiding me through the journey.
So thank you, Chris. More than you can imagine, or maybe you can.