lundi, le 31 août 2009
This morning I set out to go and see The Shrink with a bunch of flowers under my arm and freshly baked muffins in my hand.
In the good times, L’homme and I often discussed how we battled to live with each other but how we couldn’t live without each other either. I’d joke and tell him that if he left me, I’d get myself a shrink to see me through.
When I hadn’t heard from him for almost two months after he stole out of my house with the trained stealth of a commitment phobic in his disguise as a cat burglar, I could no longer bear the pain and suffering. I took myself off to a shrink on my doorstep. And we’d agreed that this had to be an outcomes based process, a process that I could learn and grow from.
In the empty hours after L’homme’s departure, I’d gone through various notes and scraps of writing over the past few years. The underlying theme of my dilemma was always feeling insecure and self-doubting, essentially because I never felt that I was good enough. I’ve now lugged this baggage with me for way too long. This is also the baggage that mostly prevented me from looking at L’homme objectively, of dealing with him from a position of strength and it caused me to want and need his love and presence too much, much more desperately than necessary or healthy.
Last week The Shrink forced me to open a can of worms that spiraled me way past depths of despair, straight into hysteria. When I literally thought my body and being was going to be dissolved by the anguish, I saw a larva amongst the worms slowly morph into a butterfly. I gained a sudden and startling insight into myself. Now I need to start the arduous task of reprogramming the misaligned beliefs about who I am and what is real to form the real me and my real realities.
The not good enough me swam easily and freely in the stream of insecurity, of self-doubt, lacking confidence, but knowing where to hide and mostly go undetected. I now need to take an amazing journey upstream, against strong currents and rapids like a bright red, beautiful salmon to the spot where I was born, so that I can spawn the new me, resplendent with the wisdom, venerability and acceptance I often sensed, but mostly surprised.
I take flowers and muffins to The Shrink, to thank her for opening the can of worms and to remind her that she needs to guide me on my journey. Only once I’ve completed this journey, may I review my deep and true feelings for L’homme and reconsider whether possibilities of a future together remain. For now he has been moved to simmer on the back burner. Oh my love, my old, my sweet, my gentle love. From year to year as all the seasons fall, I love you more you know, I love you … still
On my walk home, there’s a fleet of security vehicles and the odd police van parked outside the neighbour’s house two doors away. The day time burglars were disturbed before they could make off with too many earthly possessions. But fear grips my heart and paranoia hastens my step home.
On my way to meet prospective buyers at my shop later this afternoon, I buy the newspaper. When I see the advert for a bar for sale, it occurs to me that it is such a ridiculously cheap bargain, I think I should buy it!
Fumbling with the shop’s locks, I notice that the source of overbearing and hugely annoying noise from the establishment next door is being unplugged, loaded on the back of a trailer and being silenced forever. I sigh a huge sigh of relief and feel mildly guilty about my continuous role in the closing of the business, particularly now that I am taking steps to sell my own.
When The Princess and I arrived at my shop this evening, I am surprised to learn that even the buzz that used to be on the corner, has moved on. Suddenly I instinctively know that the dealings I am busy with are the right ones. I’m just wholly unprepared for the emotions that come tumbling out when the purchasers I met with earlier in the afternoon, confirm that they will be taking my shop over.
It will be the closure of a huge chapter of my life, but, like the bright red, beautiful salmon, I will make the amazing journey upstream, against strong currents and rapids…
(Bargain properties for sale in the South of France I once dreamed of buying. The dream is still there, but has been moved to the back burner plate next to the one L’homme is simmering on.)
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