Coming Out of the Dark

I can see that I am getting much better – almost daily. I think the viral illness I had kept me inside and lying down so much I started to get the feeling I was regressing. Now I think I can see the light. I am still trying to work my way to be able to walk back in the direction I was walking where the dog attack happened. I’d also like to get my time walking out there to be closer to an hour. For now, I am only able to walk the direction away from our home, and I only walk for about thirty minutes. When I walk back, I do it from a different direction. The good news is that this has caused me to see things in our neighborhood differently.

For example, yesterday when walking home, I noticed our garden in front of our home looks AWFUL! It has been some time since we had weeds in the front yard. I mean super tall weeds, and they had grown taller than me! I am proud to state that I was able to take them down this morning. It was the first time since the week after Hardy died that I’ve worked in that garden. It’s the place I had originally wanted to be Hardy’s memorial garden. Now I am thinking of changing the memorial garden location to the back yard. I feel more solitude in the back yard, and I want his memorial garden to be a special place.

Another thing I enjoyed this morning was cutting a fresh bouquet of flowers for the house. My neglect of the flowers out there may have been a catalyst for a new bloom. This is the first year my tube roses have bloomed. I love the scent of tube roses – they remind me of Hawaii. So now I have a small arrangement of white tube roses and wild purple asters on my dining room table. I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed flowers in my environment. It’s a good sign.

I feel like Gloria Esteban must have felt when she knew she was going to be able to walk again. I love that song, Coming Out of the Dark. It’s inspiring, and exactly how I’m feeling these days. I felt comfortable out in front of my home for over ten minutes. I didn’t feel afraid, and there was no anxiety either. I had a lovely conversation with the lady who lives across the street, and when she asked me how I was feeling, I said, “Better than I’ve ever felt so far.” I do feel like I am coming out of the dark.

The most inspiring thing happened this morning when I drove by myself to do a couple of errands. I always try to drive by the attack site when I leave the house. I am checking myself to see how the area affects my well being. When I did it this morning, I realized what my psychiatrist meant when she said I would have a psychic scar. On this occasion, I had a little flash of memory, but not a complete flashback. I only remembered a small bit of the attack. The flash of memory was indeed sad, but it was refreshing not to have to re-experience the whole ordeal from start to finish. The difference was that I wasn’t blocking the flashback from happening; I was experiencing the sadness of what happened, but not the horror of the attack. It felt like a very sad memory.

It was the first time I looked at that house in this way. Up until today, I have always driven or walked by and either I’ve felt wary of going by, or I pushed myself to do it, or I’ve experienced flashback, or I’ve had debilitating sorrow to the point of being incapacitated. This flash of memory was very different. It was just a memory. An incredibly heartbreaking one to be certain, but the fear and trepidation was gone. It was simply a marker on the timeline of my life. One that no longer rules my memory and every move I make, but more importantly, it’s not something I am fighting to control anymore.