Here Today Gone To Maui

Seven months later... It's hard to believe. I've been working like a schnauzer chasing a squirrel, and I have not had the time to get in here to write. This place is important to me though - important enough to come back over and over again. I'm not done saying what I have to say, and I'm in the perfect place to begin again. It feels like I have a new life, like I've had a metamorphosis of sorts. I'm still the same, but outside I look a lot different, and on the inside I am changed for good. It's a year since the attack, I had a meltdown on the one-year anniversary, and I can recognize that I have that psychic scar that my psychiatrist said I would.

The meltdown came when my brother's family and I went for a walk with Roxie. We were having a great day celebrating my nephew's birthday, and went to the park for the men to throw a Frisbee around. It was relaxing and fun. I was impressed by the way the Frisbee soared like a spaceship to one another. Each of the men was working with the wind, and Roxie was enjoying chasing it from person to person. I was thinking on my way home that I couldn't remember a time when I walked in my neighborhood and didn't see a scary dog, but I thought this might be the time. And there it was: a large ugly pit mix walking with its owners - off leash. I'm proud to report that I didn't have a panic attack, but I did panic like crazy.

I picked up Roxie (as if that would help), and ran to the front door, which I discovered was locked. I pounded on the door until my son opened it up, and I ran inside practically hyperventilating. I sat down on the entry room rug and burst into tears. Both my daughter and son asked me to explain what had happened, and I found myself looking out my front window, very much like on attack day, to see that dog prancing by with its owners. All of them oblivious to the fear and panic they'd caused me. In the end, I was simply grateful that I didn't have a full-blown panic attack, and that I didn't need to take a pill for that. I was relieved that my vacation to Hawaii was coming soon because getting out of that neighborhood at this time seemed necessary for my sanity.

On a better note, now that I'm finally here at Honokeana Cove, I feel like this is an event that my subconscious needed for closure. When we first got here, I went straight for the sliding door view to see what was new. The first thing I noticed was that there weren't any snorkelers. That was probably because it was raining. Hard. I liked that. It was as if the heavens were crying with me. I was exhausted from our day of travel to get here, and I had a headache, but I felt like I was in paradise and I decided to go to bed. It was a restful sleep only to be disturbed by the sound of rain and birds, and once conscious, I had a memory of Hardy, and what happened to him a year ago. The interesting thing about this memory was that it was exactly that: a memory. It was not a flashback! I can't remember that ever happening. This memory wasn't even a little like a movie, and I could control my thought process as I recalled what happened to him. I saw an image of how cute he was, and I remembered how wonderful he was, but no movie. Closure? I'm still not sure, but maybe. I'll just have to wait and see.