Slam the Door

People throw the word closure around alot, but the concept is so important. I had loved ones pass while I was away at college and never really felt like they were gone even though rationally I understood. I remember that months later I broke into uncontrollable sobs because I suddenly felt their absence. Awash with pain and sobbing I still heard the metaphorical door slam on the world before their loss.

It happens in unexpected ways and often after you've already convinced yourself that the process is done. It's not just death that requires closure it's any permanent change. I remember, more than a year after my first real boyfriend cheated on and broke up with me, having a complete breakdown when I had to be back in the building where we had spent most of our relationship. Silly "me" thought I'd dealt with that.

I know this overwhelmingly cheery set of reflections doesn't seem to be heading down any sunny path of enlightenment, but it will one day. Reality has to smack you in the face pretty hard sometimes before acceptance becomes possible or denial loses it's grip.

Recently I've been thinking alot about my "before life." I kept imagining that it still existed somewhere in the shadows and when I was ready I'd put it back on like my pre-pregnancy jeans, It seemed to me simply a matter of will. Maybe if I just waiting long enough a resume option, like on the DVR would pop up for my life.

Over the last few weeks one small event after another started chipping away at my cocoon. First I went to a restaurant that I had loved and used to frequent when I was single.  I was sorely disappointed, it was the first time I said, out loud, "I guess things change". I continued to absorb the idea that the world is forever changed for a week or two. Little reminders gave way to that jaw breaking slap in the face I mentioned, someone very important to me was gone.

A mentor and teacher that I couldn't understand the world continuing without. Someone you couldn't cross paths with and remain unchanged. Someone back there in my "before life" whose existence comforted me. A man who's memory comforted me, knowing "He's still out there giving his unique brand of inspiration to new generations of artists".  Whatever else I am, I am one of his students.  Now he's gone.

There is no going back. I left LA, I left an acting career where it sat, I came home to heal and the pain got worse, I had a baby, I got worse, I had surgery to get better and now I'm battling the limitations imposed by those. No back ups, no do-overs.

I think I finally got a handle on this. My "before life" is gone. Not just gone like I left it in a storage locker and I can reclaim it, but dead and buried. Maybe I will get another chance to pursue my dream, but in my current state it seems to me I may have to adapt my dreams. Not in a "I'll take this pot off the burner for now" way, but accept that I can't have that life ever again.

I grieve deeply for it's loss, which I feel must be the necessary step to figure out what now. I feel hollowed out without the hope I'd been clutching to fill me up. I need to take a step back and consider the road ahead...