Reflections on 2009: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Part 3

Part 3 of 3: Everything Else

I know the first two parts of my reflections sounded so good, anyone would think I’m a happy camper. Becoming a vegan, my proudest accomplishment, and losing over 100 lbs. should be enough to say 2009 was a great year. But it wasn’t. Maybe if it hadn’t been for those few good things, I wouldn’t even be here writing this.

2009 wasn’t the worst year of my life – that title is still held by 2006: the year I lost everyone – but it’s certainly holding at second place. I already detailed most of what made this year so bad in my previous entry “Losses” so I won’t go into it in detail again. I thought 2009 might be the opposite of 2006; maybe some childish magical thinking that “9” is the upside-down opposite of “6” and so life would turn around too. I thought I could leave the place where all my pain originated and start over in a new place where I could heal. But this new place just ripped any scabs that had formed over my wounds and poured salt on top of them. There will be no healing here.

Certainly, I’m not naïve. I know you can’t run away from your pain. I know my pain didn’t really live in an apartment or a neighborhood or a borough; it lives inside me – in my heart, in my mind, in my brain, in my soul – whichever way one chooses to think about it. So of course it had to come with me wherever I went. I knew that. I just wanted to bring my pain to a clean place, a quiet place, a neutral place, where it could begin to heal, where the ragged, raw lesions could start to calm and where the raging burn might subside into a quieter sting or ache.

There is so much work to do – mourning, grieving, accepting, moving on, living – but none of that is going to happen here. The damage is only getting worse and it’s spreading – to my poor husband who tries his hardest but can’t do what is not in his power and to my poor puppy who I’ve watched regress these past 6 weeks back to the anxious, insecure dog we rescued over 3 years ago.  I have lost more people, people who called themselves my "friends" and "family," and except for my husband and my dog, I am truly alone. Sure, I can talk to people online but there is no one to actually turn to for help.

So much hard work, so much progress, all going backwards. I can’t find the button to switch from rewind to fast-forward or even pause. G-d knows I can’t find the mute button. I’m just hanging onto the cord, resisting pulling the plug out. Because I really want to see the rest of this movie, I really do. It is supposed to be one of those feel-good movies – poor heroine in distress, lots of conflict, romance, comedy, suspense, plot twists and finally, a happy ending – but right now it’s all warped in this theatre of horror and I can’t make any sense of anything. I paid so much for this ticket, I really want to see the whole movie. But I can’t. All I see on the screen is “Please standby. We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please standby.” Please standby…