26 December 2019

0 an interruption from the present time

garebear, debo, and i have all been marveling about how christmas seems so wonderful this year, we're all so cozy and relaxed. i was actually happy to come to memphis! (can you even believe??!)

for the first time in a long time, it's almost like we're not walking across a bed of nails.

EL has this theory that your body holds onto stuff until you're ready to deal with it and then it lets loose. our bodies are unloosing, people! ready or not, we're ready.

they say time heals. i think sometimes it just lets you remember in a way that's incrementally less crushing.

the deep hellishness of the two weeks that burvil lived with us in september 2018 is perhaps best captured by the fact that garebear looked at me yesterday and, in all sincerity said: you really missed it. it was the worst. we barely survived. 

and it took me a hot second to realize that he was talking about something i was, in fact, there for.

his brain, in processing this ordeal, had felt the need to delete me from it.

this is sweet, in its way. i appreciate the care involved in mentally sparing me that experience. but, all the same, i want full credit.

i was there. i saw. i, too, am haunted.

a year later, it takes little to no effort to throw myself right back into and fully emotionally inhabit a moment where i was curled in a ball on the floor of my bedroom, crying, while my grandmother stood outside in the hall, screaming expletives at my mother for forty-five minutes.

she wasn't well, she didn't know what she was doing, she wasn't herself. but the explosion's effect was the same as if she had. witnesses to the violence of her own immense fear, we are all three still, in many ways, trembling and singed.

EL and i were talking about another trauma last night-- the one from college-- and she made the point that there are things you never get over and that life isn't a project of fixing those things but of surfacing them and living with them.

sensei and i used to bang on about how the south is a haunted house, but we are all of us, in our own ways, haunted houses, no? this is not a particularly original thought, but it's one worth holding.

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