Thursday, January 10, 2013

I Lost My Way But Now I'm Following

"He went to see, for the day.  He wanted to know, what to say.  When he's asked what he'd done, in the past to someone, that he loved, endlessly, now she's gone, so is he...."  That song is Lille by Lisa Hannigan.  If you want a good night time song, or really a good waking up song, give it a listen.  It's good....usually.  But it hit me like a ton of bricks just now.  And I know why. 

I wasn't an awesome person last year or the year before.  I was a bad friend, an awful husband, a bad father, and just an all around bad person.  I did things that would have made my younger self sick.  But it was easy to fall into that trap.  It's easy for things that are fun, feel great, and are a great time to suck you into them until you no longer see that they are wrong.  Desensitised I guess is the word.  Things that would have really bothered me, no longer did.  It ate me up from the inside out until I was numb to it, and everything else for that matter. 

It was like quicksand.  People tell stories about quicksand, but if you have never encountered it, how can you know what it's really like?  I've never been in quicksand.  I went out, did my thing, and sunk deeper.  And the more I struggled and the more I fought, the deeper I went.  No one could tell me I was wrong.  I knew what I was doing.  I could lie to people enough that I started to live the lies and believe them myself.  I let things very dear to me whither away, decay, fall by the wayside. 

Now, I am glad to say, I am out of the quicksand.  But quicksand comes with a price.  It sucked a lot of things away with it.  Many things that were very very dear to me.  Things that can not ever be replaced.  Reputation, love, trust.  Some things can never be replaced or won back.  I'm still washing that damn sand off my body and pouring it out of my boots.  It's a little easier to wash the sand and muck away when someone is holding the hose for you.  I've got a little hose-holder now.  I'll be in the sunshine soon.  It takes time.  Hell, I've got time. 

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