Clutching The Past Too Tightly

"You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present."  ~Jan Glidewell

I am reminded of this quote as I was going through some pre-burn pictures of myself to put away in a box and send off to one of my dearest friends.  Once again it was hard going through those pictures.  Damned hard seeing what I used to look like, how happy I was in every picture.  Tears welled up in my eyes until they eventually tipped over my lower lid and streamed down my cheeks, around the corners of my mouth.  It was a quiet cry, a quiet sob.  Gentle heaves rocked my chest and body as I went through each picture, lingering on each one for just a moment or two before putting them away.

I have been clutching the past so tightly to my chest that I haven't been able to fully embrace the present.  I'm hung up on what was and that in turn makes me angry with my present, unable to live my life for each moment.  I'm wasting days, moments of the present because I can't get over the past, both the good and the bad.  But when I look at those pictures I see only what was good in my past, the good memories flooding my mind so fast that it's difficult to keep up in my own head.  I don't know how to let go.  Four years later and I still don't know how to let go.  It's impossible for me to accept what happened and push forward, making the best out of what I have now.  When I think about accepting the accident, it's like solving a complex physics equation.  I look at it like it's an ancient Egyptian language and I can't comprehend the thought of accepting what happened.  I'm wasting my life doing this.

So how does one come to accept a horrible happening in their life?  Something that ruined the way of life that they knew?  I think it helps if they aren't as alone as I am.  Sure, I have my family and my friends, but I don't have my own family, a husband, or even a boyfriend.  I'm on my own, alone, and it proves to be difficult to meet people so I hide away most of the time.  And by hiding away, time passes me by as I clutch to past memories of a happier time.  And before I know it, four years have passed, I've turned 30 years old, and I don't have anything to show for it except 32 surgeries.

I continue to pack up my past so that maybe I may find myself free to embrace the present....