Surviving Nightmares

I've never been a deeply religious person in the most traditional sense. I've been told I'm not a true Christian. My grieving parents were told that my sister, dead just before her eighth birthday, was not in heaven because she hadn't been "born again" and given her life to Jesus.

But still, I believe in God, although there have been times when I have found myself angry at His actions. Why was this happening? What had I done to deserve this? But over the past few days, I have realized that the old saying about God working in mysterious ways holds true.

Like an addict, who always believed his next hit would erase all his ills, I spent years clawing my way towards another chance to "get high". No matter what anyone, not even my own inner voice, told me about getting past this and moving on with my life, I didn't want to listen. They were wrong. They didn't know what I'd been through; they didn't know how happy I could eventually be once things fell into place and besides what else did I have to move on to?

And so months and years passed, and with every roadblock placed in my way, ever time, I see now, God tried to direct me down a different path, I fought against it. I tried to figure out what I could do to get past these obstables. What one thing I needed to do that would reverse all the setbacks. I figured, I had been fighting for so long, certainly I would get my just reward.

But the obstacles mounted, the roadblocks increased. Sometimes there would be a stretch of open road and I thought perhaps this might be the path to happiness. But then I'd hit another roadblock, and I was all the more frustrated.

Along the way, I got angry at the world, alienated people, pushed friends away as I tried to dive into the darkness. I got down on my knees and begged God to just let me have one chance, just let me be with this one person. I promised Him I would be a better person, that I would do whatever I could to make my world and that of those around me a better place.

It was only when I hit rock bottom, with no chance of reconcilliation, that I could clearly see the road I was on. As painful as it is to look back at the past, it's like Johnny Nash once sang "I Can See Clearly Now". I can see that road was a dead-end path, heaved in the wrong direction.

And with each passing day, I realize that hitting rock bottom, that living out the worst nightmare reality imaginable, just might be the best thing that could have happened. To put that addiction metaphor to use again, it's like an addict waking up from a bad trip, and realizing there's no crack, no meth, no marijuana, no speed, no pills, no alcohol...hell, not even a bottle of aspirin to be had.

Before this, whenever I'd hit what would seem an obstacle, I'd get upset, curse my luck...but then I'd start thinking of an option, a possibility, a way back. This time, there is no way back, no solution, no light at the end of the tunnel. There is no magic e-mail to be sent, no phone call that will undo what has happened. One person has made up their mind about another, firmly and permanently, and and that other must live with it.

But having no recourse in the matter has forced me to do exactly what so many friends told me I shoul do: move on. I'm not waiting by the computer for a Facebook message that will never come. I'm not waiting for phone calls to be returned. Instead, I've turned my attention towards trying to patch up some friendships, enrich those that remained, and have renewed my search for that special someone, that someone who will let me prove the kind of person I can truly be.

Don't take this blog as some kind of declaration that all is wonderful with me on this particular subject. I may flippantly say this nightmare was the best thing to happen to me, but there's an element of BS in there.

I am still saddened that a seven-plus year friendship (which was the most important part of the relationship to me), and a five-year fight to maintain that friendship has ended. I realize that I am not totally blameless. I made mistakes, mistakes I wish I could correct, be able to apologize for, be forgiven for. There will always be moments in my life I'll regret not being able to share with her, and times I wish we could have remained friends. And, I will admit, there have been moments over the course of the last week where I wonder if I couldn't extend an olive branch somehow. But I realize, with a heavy heart though I do, that to do so might just invite the opportunity for me to put my life on hold again until I could be with her.

I can go forward, looking back only to shake my head at how wrong I was, and how long I tried to deny what everyone else was telling me. But as I said, there are some positives to come out of this. For the first time in five years, I feel free. Free to move on with my life. Free to think about other things than the latest setback or the weeks or even months since I had last heard anything.

As I go forward, I don't have to look back, save to remember the type of person I wanted to be, and the type of person I feel I can be.

When the day comes for me to be that person, I'll be ready.