Friday, June 11, 2010

Adult Guilt and Baby Steps

Dear Web,

Well, I stepped out of my comfort zone and had dinner over at my new neighbor's house last night. She was very kind to invite me and while I didn't feel too nervous before, I was up most of the night afterwards. Nothing really identifiably wrong. We spoke of mostly 'safe' topics like our animals. She loves her ten year old dog Grady, of course. She told me again how close she was to the people who lived in this house before; how they each moved in and out of one another's house freely, took care of each other's pets, shared dinners together several times a week etc. I can tell she is anticipating that kind of relationship again with us.

So, I was awake much of the night with nothing glaringly getting my attention. I didn't have any of my usual PTSD symptoms, like racing heart and escalating anxiety. It wasn't until very early this morning, around sun rise, when I realized the shock state I am in. You see, if I had had a better relationship with my old neighbor....even IF I had given him my number at work....you see where I'm going?... I could have saved my Phoenix because my neighbor would have called me at work instead of leaving a message on the home machine and.....I would have dropped everything to come get Phoenix and bring him home. I AM SO SORRY, MY LOVE. I failed you. I failed you because I hated my neighbor and wanted as little to do with him as possible. And YOU, my darling Phoenix, MY GUARDIAN, paid the price! How will we ever find forgiveness of me for THAT! (I need to let that hang in the air for just a bit...)







And here I am in a new home with a new neighbor who is NOT the old neighbor. And...there are things about her/who she is that make me leery and there are things about myself/my home that I hold sacred and private which complicate just opening my doors fully to her. I do not trust her to understand me, nor really see me for who I am. Our home houses not just our things, but our Spirits. It has been and always will be a sanctuary. So the thought of her just rambling through the house, scares me. Not because I think she is criminal or pathological. No. Nor because I think she would harm us. It scares me simply because I do not trust her. I don't. For good or for bad, I do not trust her. Perhaps that is PTSD. Perhaps that is instinct. Or something else. Whatever it is, I will honor it and not be pressured or bullied by social expectations to just fling open my door to her.

And...there's always an and....How do I let myself relate differently to her than I did the other neighbor, the murderer? How can I let myself see her as a different person who did not kill Phoenix, nor would ever consider it? I started last night by giving her my number at work.

Baby steps.

Love,
Melissa

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