I Broke Things

     I broke things. I hurt people. I let people down. This is not me. I am the fixer. I help people. As Mommie says: "Keep the Peace." That is my role. I don't know when it became my role or how it became my role. It was just the way it was. Then I fell apart. Then I hurt people I love. I disappointed, I failed.
     I could say a million "I am sorry." That won't change the damage I have done. How in the world did everything get so out of my control? It seems I just stopped trying - I didn't. I was trying, I failed. I let everyone down. How did that happen? The system wore me out. I felt so helpless and hopeless. That big elephant, fear, sitting on my chest. I couldn't catch a break.
     In a previous life I must have done some awful things. In this life I really did my best to help everyone. To "fix" everything. I made responsible decisions. I kept my word. I worked hard. Where in the world did I mess up? How did I become so lost?
     Forgiveness is important - to heal from childhood I had to forgive. After I was injured at work I had only anger and grief. Who did I need to forgive? The system was eating me up - my body was failing me. I lost myself.
     I need your forgiveness. I need to fix the things I broke. I need to make amends. Now, I still live in survival mode. Trying to make it through one moment at a time. Thinking ahead, or thinking big thoughts is too hard. Fearing I cannot fix what I have broken makes me choke. That is when I can't find my breath.
     It doesn't matter what I do. I cannot change the damage I caused. What is the answer? What is the direction? "Keep the Peace." My place of peace. That is how I refer to me in a healthy state. I had that. I knew how that felt. Not anymore. Getting back to My Place of Peace, where is the map?
     Why I believed it was my role to fix the world. No, it isn't that - Leave things better than I found them. Shine a light where there once were shadows. Perhaps, make it easier for the next person. It wasn't trying to fix the world, just trying to make my corner a little better than it was. I certainly messed up.
     Survival mode, for me this means staying within myself. Shutting out everything. Keep my mind occupied with mundane TV shows, sports - Isolate and minimize contact with anyone. That is what I did. I reverted to coping strategies which worked in the past. In doing so I was hurting Liz, Em, Aldona Mae, Eileen, Lynn, Donald - everyone who loved me. Y'all were trying to help me. I kept slipping farther and farther into myself. I am so sorry.
     I fix things not break them. At least I once was that person. The path of destruction I caused, please know that was not me. How and why? I don't have the answer - not yet, maybe never. I beg of you to realize it wasn't me. I did not choose, nor intend, nor desire causing so much hurt and pain. Where did my strength go?
     Amazing isn't it? The power of depression. I became a completely different person. A person I loathed. How long was I gone? If you told me I could sink that low, I would disagree. I am a survivor. I am strong. I fix things. I broke everything...shattered everything - I could not see it. I could not get out of my own way. 
     This happened. Why? How could I allow this to happen? I couldn't stop it. It wasn't me. It was me. Can't change the past, oh how I wish I could. Accepting this responsibility - I broke things...
     One moment I was living a life made from love, kindness, generosity, and faith - the next I was destroying everything. I was powerless to stop what was happening. I could not see it. Nothing to do with taking too much meds - nothing to do with the constant pain that wracks my body - it was something alive - depression? It is alive, like a parasite, it gets under your skin - sucks your life blood. Eats at your mind. Depression is palpable. Depression is invisible. Was I really too proud to admit it? Did I even know? How will I make amends?
     There remains more questions than answers. There are close to 1/2 million shards of glass within me. As I move forward trying to repair what I broke, I anticipate pain as each tiny shard is expelled. I can't fail anymore. It is so hard. I must continue forward. I must resist the temptation of quitting.
     This story, my story, there is a happy ending. It is up to me. I write the script. That elephant is heavy. Ironic isn't it? How we can see in others what we cannot see in ourselves. It is easier to give than to receive. It is easier to analyze someone else's life than look at our self.
     The human condition - we are complex yet simple. Forever a paradoxical being. Wishing our hair, our eyes, our nose, our weight, our height - wishing we were different. Then, when we are different we bemoan that which makes us different. In a circle, moving in a circle, waiting until we come back around. It is watching someone else ride the Merry go Round - When their horse approaches we wave, then we stop, then we wave, then we stop - around and around the horse goes. When we can see it we wave, then we stop. One day, for whatever reason, I stopped waving. Depression? The elephant? Circumstance? It wasn't me. It could not have been me. I fix things. I broke things.
    This is why pencils have erasers. Life does not have a back button. Nor does it have a reset button. I am responsible for what I broke. It wasn't me. How can I reconcile this? Filled with shame, guilt, and remorse I move forward. I wonder how thick the ice is; will my weight be too much? Certainly with this elephant sitting on my chest I am too heavy. Moving forward...writing a happy ending, returning to my place of peace - forgiveness, please forgive me. It wasn't me, I am responsible - I broke things.