I’m blocked and trying to backtrack. I thought I could write my way through tragic parts of my history, but it’s not going well.
A non-credit assignment to write about an accident got me into this mess. Back when the instructor was tossed it my way, I felt like a victim who couldn’t deal with revisiting all the grief that has come to my children since that fateful night.
Now, after a few years of fractured looking back, I feel like anything but a victim. And it’s not a good feeling.
Inadvertently causing a death
To try and get some personal perspective for the place I’m in, I googled “inadvertently causing the death of another” and found a website.
Writers talked of truly innocent occurrences like a child darting into the street in front of a car or inadvertently letting a pet cat escape the safety of the house.
As I read story after story, I could relate to the grief. You can’t go back. What is done is done, and you carry a constant ache. I understand that.
However, reading about the guilt that others feel over occurrences that they may not have been able to prevent has made my shame overwhelming.
I could have avoided my tragedy.
I was honest once
Back in 1983, when life changed for my family, I talked to the sheriff’s deputy. My first-born child lay in the hospital morgue, my husband was taking another son to stay with friends, and I was watching over a daughter suffering from her injuries.
When the apologetic deputy called me to the hospital hall for a visit, I could be clear-eyed and honest as I answered his questions. It was easy because I was delusional and believed I was living God’s will.
But now, I’ve got nothing but grief, shame, and a writing block.
Tried to write
To get back on the writing track, I decided to pen some ditties about aging or stories about my mother as she faded. But I can’t get them finished. Probably because they are divisions that keep me from looking at me.
Nope. I have a story to tell, but I can’t do it.
I may never do it publically.
I’m on hold
I want to say I’m not writing because my life is so exciting that I don’t have time. But the truth is, I can’t do it now because it is depressing and nearly overwhelming me.
I still believe fading into the future would go better for me if I could figure out how to own my own life. However, until I find a way to start chipping or dynamiting the big block in my road forward, I may be offline. But who knows for sure.
I’m rolling up my sleeves. That is what I do when moving forward seems to oppress me. Tackle the future and try to solve it.
But this time, I plan to get some outside help because I can’t afford another horrible screw-up in judgment. I’ll try to find a therapist I can talk honestly with, take another approach to meditation, and perhaps go on a cry-my-eyes-out sabbatical.