27
Jul
08

ignore the toothpaste and believe me that I’m changing

I found a sun drenched pond yesterday. 

Dragon flies zipped across the surface and aquatic bugs were scampering about beneath the skin of the water.  It was swollen due to recent thunderstorms.  Toads were calling out as I approached the pond, but stopped once I reached the edge. 

It made me feel like a gigantic monster.  I was the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, barreling towards the humans and crushing things on my way.  The toads were the humans, frozen, hoping that I wouldn’t see them if they only could turn into mannequins.  Silly toads.  It was a stare down.  I scanned the pond for their little eyes.

I found one sitting on a log in the middle of the water.

They'll never see me if I don't move

They'll never see me if I don't move

It’s been nearly 10 years since my father died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism.  Since then the landscape of my family has drastically changed.  I believe it would have changed anyway with three girls in their early twenties, but what made it different was that the changes weren’t always voluntary on my part.
I wanted to establish self-stability while things around me changed.  My oil was changed every 3,000 miles and the Tupperware in my cabinet was stacked neatly.  I kept three bottles of toothpaste in case one ran out and my gas tank was never under 1/2 full.  It delved deeper than the physical manifestations of control.  My spirit was snuffed and suffocated. 
High anxiety. 
During that time I developed Walmart-o-phobia, would have  sleepless nights, and stuck to a rigid routine of work and sleep
I can’t write about these things as though they’re entirely gone!  I have four bottles of toothpaste and three toothbrushes in my bathroom right now.  You’d think an entire family was using my bathroom.
Because one may run out AT ANY TIME

Because one may run out AT ANY TIME

By the way, there is a compulsion reason for each toothpaste and toothbrush.  That’s a whole other riviting entry.

I returned from the pond yesterday and watched the Yankees play the Red Sox.  I ate a good lunch and rested.  It occured to me that I felt good — I felt normal

“Normal” as in the way my spirit felt before the autumn of 1998.  I felt at peace, I felt forgiven, I felt content.  I felt like me.  It snuck up on me.

Ten years is a long time to be aggitated.  Ten years is a long time to sit motionless on a log, hoping that nothing would change if only I didn’t move. 

The bizarre thing about the last ten years is that there was no one waiting to kill me along the edge of the pond.  It’s why my friends and family teased me and often times left conversations with me wagging their heads in frustration.  I understood that I was being ridiculous, but hung on to my log.  Cowardly-Lion-Kari liked her log.

So today is a new day and I have the opportunity to let go again.  I liked me yesterday. 

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7 Responses to “ignore the toothpaste and believe me that I’m changing”


  1. 1 Jill
    July 28, 2008 at 1:29 am

    Great entry Kari- your contentment flowed over the page and made me content too.

  2. 2 mom
    July 28, 2008 at 4:15 am

    I am thankful that you are processing and healing. Ten years. I was thinking about that too. Ten sounds like a long time but in some ways it seems like yesterday. The mind can trick us that way. I hope that you continue on in the process and get back to normal Kari. I love you. Mom

  3. July 29, 2008 at 4:35 am

    Kari, I remember being the night in Lambein when you told me the story of your dad’s passing. I actually think of it often and how strong you were despite the circumstances. I think that a lot of times we don’t want to let ourselves go back to what was normal, but it is definitely part of the healing process.

    Thanks for sharing this.

  4. July 30, 2008 at 8:02 am

    thanks for sharing, Kari. I love you.

  5. 5 Ronster
    July 31, 2008 at 5:48 pm

    That was a very good blog. I’m really glad that you are feeling good about yourself and the events that have transpired over the last 10 years.

  6. 6 Becca
    August 3, 2008 at 10:41 pm

    It feels SO good to hear you sounding so good. =) I luf you, dear friend! Looking forward to contentedly canoeing on the Battenkill in a few short weeks.

  7. August 4, 2008 at 4:32 am

    This a beautiful post Kari.


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