the way things crash & burn & heal 'he saw the holy ghost' by dublin varhsavski

forwill.

theidealendofallsuffering;forgettingthe mindset,thethoughts,patterns,habits,waysof thinkingandthepanicofthepast. but...it'shauntingisn’tit…? thethingswetryandforget…areoftenthethings thatlinger.

I’vealwaysthoughtthattheworldisanextremelystrangeanddifferentplaceforthe traumatized.Theskyisadifferentcolor,theairisadifferentsmell,andtomorrowisa differentconcept.Theskyisnotbrightblue,it’sjustareminderthattheworldisgoingon aroundyouandyoucannotstopthepain.Theairisnotfresh,it’ssomethingyouwantto enjoybutcan’t.Tomorrowisanotherdayoffear,pain,longingandconfusion. Thetraumatizedmightgothroughthousandsofnanometer-sizedemotionsaday;tryingso hardtokeepittogether.Inthelandoftrauma,momentsofhopearefleeting,momentsof positivity,strengthandoptimismareintricatelywoventogetherwiththeburdenof negativity,weakness,stress,pessimism,fearandlackofenergy.Imagininghowthings couldhavebeen,hadyoujustdonethingsdifferently,orworstofall,knowingthatthings wereinyourhandsandyoujustlostyourbalance,messedup,didthingsthatcan’tbe undone.Peoplehavelosttrustinyou,butthemostpainful,youhavelosttrustinyourself. That’salltosaythatthismini-bookisaboutmytraumaandrecovery,comingout alongsideFakeAccounts3(goread!)

There’sanoldpoemthatI’vealwaysbeencaptivatedbyandoneofthelineshasstuckwith mesincethefirsttimeIreadit.“Hunkereddown,nervenumb,inthecarnalhut,thecave ofself,whileoutsideragesastorm”It’salineI’verelatedtoinmysaddestmoments;when Ineedtoknowsomeoneelsehadfelttheexactsameway.Andwhenwe’retryingtomoveon andthingshavebecometerrible,themomentswealwaysgobacktoaren’tthemundane ones.Theyarethemomentsyousawsparks,feltstars,sawyourfuturebeforeithappened andthensawitslipawaywithoutanywarning.Thesearemomentsofnewfoundhope, extremejoy,intensepassion,wishfulthinking,andinsomecases,theunthinkableletdown. Timesthatwentfromzerotoahundredmilesperhourandthenhitawallandexploded. Anditwasawful.Andridiculous.Anddesperate.Andwhenthedustsettled,itwas somethingyoufeellikeyouwillneverforget.ButyoucanandIamlivingproofthatyou cangetthroughanything.Youknow,I’verecently beenthinkingaboutmypreviouswork, andhowthewritingprocesswasandIrealized

thatthethemesofthepastthreebookswereverypositive,philosophicaland autobiographical,butthechaptersaboutmytraumaresembledsomeonewhowashealing, stillin,andwillforawhilebeintheprocessofhealing.Thosechapters wereaverydigestible,filteredwayofexplainingwhathadhappened.Thismini bookisdifferent,nofiltering,nomakingiteasiertounderstand,ordistractingit withashinychapteronpage21thatmakesthingsseembetter;justaraw,unfiltered, painful,crude,harshtellingofthewaythingscrashedandburnedandeventually healed.

1. year + red (taylor’s version)

January2021,oneofthebestmonthsofmylife.Youprobablyknow,butitwastruly somethingelse.January22nd,Imettheloveofmylife,theoneIknowIwasdestined tomeet,Will.

Absolutelywonderstruck,IwassoconfusedbecauseIhadnoideawhattodowithall theloveIhadforWill.Listeningto“Enchanted”byTaylor.Allmyproblemswent awayafteronesplitsecondofmeetinghim.Butalso,theexcitement,everymoment filledwith“thiswastheveryfirstpage,notwherethestorylineends.”

Youknow,myfriendshipwithWillisgoingtocontinueandwe’lldevelopsucha bondandI’llseehimlater,thatkindoffeeling.Iwasabsolutelyshottotheground byhisbeautifulround,browneyes,andhisbeautifulblackhairandrosycheeks.His smilethatcouldcausetenfieldsoflionstodropdead.Andastheyearwenton,Isaw himmoreandmore.april9th,2021,taylorreleasedfearless(Taylor’sVersion).All thenostalgiawassoamazingandhervocalssoundedamazing.May21st,Olivia Rodrigo’salbumSOURcameout,myfriendsmakingfunofit.Thesummerbegins, andeverymonthisaseasonalfirstwithwill.july18th,TaylorannouncesRed (taylor’sversion).septemberrollsaround,andmyfriendsandIarehavingagreat time.I’mlookingforwardtothenextrecording(Red)andamsoexcitedtohearthe vaulttracks.ItwasoriginallysupposedtocomeoutonNovember19th,butthenshe announcedshewouldreleaseitonNovember12th.

November11th,RemembranceDay,comesaround.I’mthrowingalisteningparty, Idecorateditwithtonsofpoppieseverywhere,Icriedthewholetime(tearsofjoy), listeningtoAllTooWell(10MinuteVersion)Itwascrazyandthevocalswereso good,thevaultswereamazingandwehadsomuchfun.

2.findingout

23dayslater,onDecember5th,myworldshatters.Ifindoutmyfriendshavebeenlyingto meformonths.(sorry,tobeclear,differentfriendsthantheonesthatmadefunofSourwith me,anddifferentfriendsthantheonesIhadthelisteningpartyforRedwith.)Wewereata Sundayserviceatthechurch,wewenttogether,everydayusually.Wereadoutourfirst Christmaspoemsoftheyear,andthechoirkidsareallwearingjinglebells.Afterthat,I’m walkingaround,passingcandythinkingabouthowfunthisis,thinkingaboutthecoatWill waswearingthatday.ThenIsitdownatthetableandoneofmyfriendsstandsuptogoseea deliveryoutside,heleaveshisphoneandIseeaphotothattoldmeeverythingIneededtoknow. Iexcusemyselffromthetable,tryingnottoburstintotears,there’sabathroomline.I'm standingthere,shaking,myheartisbeatingsoloud,Ifeellikeeveryonearoundmecanhear it,therearearoundfourpeopleinline.AtthispointIcan’tstopthetears,Iseehimcomeback andIhidebehindthepersonaheadofme.Eventually,thebathroomisopen,Igointhere,sit onthefloorandprocessandcryfortenminutes,realizingwhathadjusthappened.Itryand getmyselftogetherandgobackoutside.Igetbacktothetableandstartstresseating,beingat thattableknowingthateveryoneknows,Icannotputthefeelingintowords.Thedinner quicklyends,we’regivingoutcarepackagesandIleave,stopatatreenearbyandstartcrying myeyesout.Igotosleep,cryingandwakeup,feelinglikeshit.Igettothechurch, Ihad

So,Ijoinedthechurchinmayof2021andthereImet4amazingpeoplewhoIfellabsolutely inlovewith.Webondedovereverythingandbyseptember,wewerecomingtothechurchevery day,evenifthereweren’tanyinterestingceremonieshappening,wewerethere,justtohang out.Thechurchwasquitebig,withatallroof,anddarkbrownwallswithorangelightsinthe chandeliers.Wesatataniceroundtablebythewaterfountainsattheback.Weusually playedcardsandtalkedaboutourlives.Sometimeswewouldsitatseparatetablesonour phonesandjustdoourownthing.AfterIfoundoutthattheywereconspiringbehindmyback; Iwalkedaroundwithagapingholeinmychest.EverydayIwouldwalkintothechurchand sitwiththemoronmyown.Slowlywestartedsittingonourownmoreandthenoccasionally theywouldallcometooneperson’stableandstartwhisperingtoeachother.IwouldpretendI didn’tnoticeit.Often,IwouldwalkuptooneofthemwhenIthoughttheywerelookingat somethingandstartupsmalltalk.“Hey,where’smypen?”“Whyisthebathroomlineso long?”

“Doyouhaveacharger?”Andsometimes,assoonasIdid,theirenergywouldchangeandI couldfeelit.ThenIhadtogetthroughtheinteractionwithoutburstingintotears.Ican rememberthepanicandfeeling,sovividlytothisday.Ihadneverfeltsuchpaininmylife.10 daysintodecemberandthingshadonlygottenworse.Wewouldhaveadayofavoidingeach otherandofmegettinguptogotalktooneofthenunsortothebathroomsothattheywould maybestopwhisperingaboutme.Attheendoftheday,Iwouldleavethechurchandgoup behindthelargewillowtree,rightoutsidethechurchandjustcrymyeyesoutforhours.By middecemberthingshadbecomesoterriblethatIwasjustsotiredofpretendinganddidn’t showuptothechurchoneday.Irememberitsofuckingwell.December14th,Iwasathome andIhadback-to-backpanicattacksalldaybecauseIknewthattheyweren’twhispering. Theyweretalkingoutloud.

WhenIwasn’thyperventilating,Iwasscreamingforthepanicattackstostop.Theywouldn’t. Iendedupgoingtoseemyotherfriendsatour“theatre”(peopleIknowhangoutinstrange places).Iwentandjustsatthere,zoningouteverythingtheyweresaying.Butbeingaround themcalmedmedown(guysIknowyou’rereading

this.)Iwentbackthedayafterandeverythingwasawful.SoIdecidedtotaketheL,make myselflooklikeafuckingidiotandjusttellthemIhavetogotoafuneral.Ileftandcried allday.ThechurchbecameaplaceofsomuchfuckingpainandIwassofuckingdepressed. Everyday,I’dcomeinandjustbesofuckinganxious.Thethingaboutitthatwastheworst wasthatIhadtoactlikeeverythingwasnormal.Whensomethinghappensinyourlife andiscausingstress,somepeoplemightknowandfeelempathyintheworkplace.Friends andfamilyaretheretoventtoandyoujustfeellighter.Butthiswassofuckingheavy. IhadtopretendlikeeverythingwascompletelyfineandIdidn’thaveanything tohide.

IdecidedtoincludeasongthatIwroteduringthistime.

Second day of laughing jokes

I lose my favorite town

And it feels foggy and hazy

And it’s all so unnecessary

Flashbacks to every regret

Denial for all the questions

There are so many pieces on the floor

I pick them up

They fall again

December 17th, 2021

And I live every day like it would be if this were to end. They say it’ll stop

But this won’t. No this won’t

They say you should always see a bright side to everything

But I don’t. I don’t. No bright sides, just dark flashes, loud heartbeats and ashes. But they say to never let someone drown you in your own defeat Every star fits into a constellation

But now they’re all torn-up pages In the book, I’m Living.

I’mgoingtotalkalittlebitaboutthisbook,Iwilltalkaboutthewritingexperiencelater, inthelastchapter.

Somuchisinthewriting.FormewhenIreadthroughthesesongs,IrealizedthatWriting thisbookwasababy-stepprocess.Ididn’twakeupandjustdecideIwantedtowriteabook aboutmytrauma.Ireadalotofmemoirstoprepare,listenedtoreallycatharticrecords likeAdele’s“30”,TaylorSwift’s“RED”,BruceSpringsteen’s“TunnelOfLove''andreally analyzedhowtheywentaboutsharingtheirexperiencewithtraumaandpain.Thoseare thebestlyricalexamplesIcanthinkof,offthetopofmyhead.I’malwayslisteningand observingandI’mverysmartandIwasreallyreadytostart.Ireallywantedtodo somethingdifferent,IalwayswanttowritephilosophybutIreallywantedtobranchout.I thinkthiswastheperfecttimetowritethisbook.Itwasoriginallywritten,withoutthetitle inmind,withouttheideaofabookeveninmind.Itwasoriginallywrittenjustasa catharticcopingmechanism.ThenItriedtomakeitabookanditwasoriginally158 chapterslongandthenIhadtoshortenitdownto10becauseIdidn’twantthistobea hugebook,andobviously,because160chaptersisinsanebutalsobecauseIdidn'twantitto bepartofthefakeaccountstrilogy,Iwantedittobeamini-book,thatwasmything,like: ‘Iwantthistobeseparate,andintimate,andhonest,andrawanddark,goplacesIhave neverbeenandtaketherisks.’Becauseitisamini-book,onlypeoplewhoareinterestedin gettingacloserlookwillreadit.

Ireallyreallywantedthatprivacyanddiaristicfeeltoit.

Now,backtothe160chapters;IwrotethemfromDecemberof2021toMarch2022.ButI couldn’tfindthecouragetomakeitintoabook.Forme,thesubjectwassotoughbecauseit wasaboutsomethingthatatthattimewasverycurrent,forme.Iwouldhaveareallyhard timereadingitback.SotherewouldbenoworldinwhichIwouldbeabletomakeitinto anentirebook,atthatpointandtime.Ineededanentireyearofsortofretrospecttoreally bededicatedtoputtingthisbookoutandtoknowwhatIwouldevenmake.Thetheme,the concept,ifpeoplewouldevenwanttoreadit.AndI’msogratefulthatIwasabletodothat andfinallyputthisbookout.

However,thisisn’tmynewthingandIseemyselfwritingothergenres,Idon’talwayssee myselftellingstoriesaboutextremegutturaltraumaatyourformativeagethatreallysort ofdebilitatesyouemotionallyforyearsandthenyouhavetodevelopwaysinwhichyoucan moveonwithyourlifeandthenlimpyourwaytoapenandpaperortype-writeror computerandwriteanovelaboutit,youknow;Ican’tkeepdoingthat.Iwouldloveto writemysteryorthrillers,andreallymakecharacters,whichissomethingIonlydidfor fun,asakidsobringingittolifewouldbesocool. Anyways,itwasextremelycathartictowritethismuchaboutthistopicandputitoutand havingitresonatewithpeople.

SoIwanttostartthischapterbysharingsomejournalentries.

December8th,2021

“UghIamsofuckingtired.Itjustgetsharderandhardereveryday.Itjustsuckssomuch.I amsoupset.Myplanisjusttocalmdown,distractmyself,anythingtostopmefrom crying.IthinkI’llneedtogobacktothechurchsoon,they’llbebackandifI’mnotthere... Oh,they’redefinitelygoingto100%yep,Ineedtogo.Hopefully,thingswillgetbetter.Ijust havetosuckitup,thisisliferightnowandIjusthavetodealwithitandbeinhell.”

Ohmygod,Iaminstantlytakenback,readingthisIaminstantlytakenbackto everything.Thisentrymakesmeactuallywannafuckingscreambecauseitmakesme realizehowmuchfuckingpaintherewas.

Now,Italkalotaboutbeingtornandwhatthatmeans,inthiscontextis;Iwastorn betweenchurchandlife,Icoverthisinotherchaptersbutthisbookisaboutgoingdeeperso herewego.Iwouldstartmydayoffandimmediatelygotothechurch.I’dspendhours thereandwhileIwasthere,IwouldobviouslybestressedaboutthesituationbutIalsofelt suchimmenseguiltforbeingthereandnotbeingwithfriends,orfamily,orbackhomeat thefarm,ormostimportantly;withWill.Duringceremonies,whennoonewaslooking, I’dsneakofftothebathroomtocryandscreamtoletitalloutandthenI’dcomeback, hopingnoonenoticedandIfeltsomuchguiltforwastingmytimeonthisnightmareofa place,ratherthanbeingsomewhereelse.WhenIwassomewhereelse;withanyoneelse, doinganythingelse;Iwasconstantlyworriedaboutwhatwasgoingonbehindmyback,at thechurchandIcouldn'tfocusonanything,Icouldn’ttakeanythingin,Iwasjust completelytornapartbetweentwoworlds.

Thisresultedinmehavingabsolutelynothingtoenjoy,nothingwasworthit,everything, everyevent,everysecond,everyminute,everywordanyonesaid,everythingIsawwasjusta tickingtimebomb,tickinguntillifewouldget10xworse.Ifeltlikeabrokenbeing,just mopingaroundtryingsohardtofunction.IfeltlikelifewasgoingonaroundmeandI wasjustinpain,watchingithappen,lettingitpassby.Watchingeveryoneliving normally,IfeltlikeIwaswatchingmyselfloseeverythingaboutmyself,completelyunable tostopit.Mylife,alivinghell.

Iwroteaversionof“YouAllOverMe”withmyotherfriendsfromthe theatre,Ithought:Whynotsharethatwithyoutoo?Hereitis:

“Ilived,Icried,wenttochurch,feltlikeaspyHeldontofriendsThatruinmyplans.And wastedchristmasseason.LotsoftearssworethatI’dgetoutofhere.Butnoamountof evergreengetsyoucleanI’vestillgotsadnessalloverme.ThebestandworstdayofjanWas theonewhereImadethisplan.ThoughtnoonecouldeverfindoutthetruthAndIdidn't thinkThingswouldgetsoweird.SoIruinedmyownlife.Noweverybreathofairyou breatheMakesmethinkyouknowsomething.Ilived,Icried,wenttochurchfeltlikeaspy HeldontofriendsThatruinmyplansAndwastedchristmasseason.Lotsoftearsswore thatI’dgetoutofhere.ButnoamountofevergreengetsyoucleanI’vestillgotsadnessall overme.. ”

Obviously,thisistakingamuchmorehumorouslookatmytraumawithlineslike: “Wenttochurch,feltlikeaspy”

Butthiswasaninterestingtimecapsule.AndatthetimeIthought,whynottryandmake thisalittlefunny?

ItwasallIcoulddo.

5. trauma

SoaroundthebeginningofJanuaryof2022.Istoppedgoingtothechurch,thiswasthebig step.Thefirstfewdayswerejustback-to-backpanicattacks,allday.Icouldn’tmove.But soon,Ibegantobreathenormallyagain.

IrealizedthatIwasn’tgoingtorecovereasilyandthatthiswouldbepainfulforyears.So, IstartedtothinkabouthowI’dviewthistime,lateroninlife.WhatwouldIdowithall thisdamage?WouldIevenbeabletodoanythingwithit?Oristhewoundjustnevergoing toheal?Ithinkthere’satimewhenthewoundissofresh,thetraumaisallstillthere,in fact,itisn’teventrauma,it’sstillthepainandstressandcurrenthardship,butthere'sa timeattheveryendofyoursuffering,where;youwonderifit’llevergoaway,orifyou’ll everbeabletomakeanythingimportantoutofit.Thattime,Iseeitasanevergreentree thathashadallitsbranchessufferinginthewindduringthefallandisnowcoveredwith coldandblood-suckingsnow.

Howdoesrecoveringevenseempossible,whenthewoundissofresh?

Well,first,Idecided,Iwasnolongergoingtobeavictimtomytrauma,Iamgoingtobea survivor,evenifIneverfullymakeit,becauseIwasn’tsurethatwasgoingtohappen.Ijust triedmyhardesttochangemymindset.Idevelopedthe“anti-traumamethod” Thiswasamethodthatonlylastedafewdays,butIthinkithelped..

Basically,everytimeIthoughtaboutthechurch,amoment,goingtochurch,orfeltsad aboutit,Iwouldacknowledgethefeeling,welcomeit,anddecidetodosomething productiveinstead.I’llgiveyousomeexamples.

Ithoughtaboutgoingtothechurch,Iwenttomybackyardandpickedradishestomakea salad.

Once,Ifeltlikescreamingandfeltapanicattackcoming,Ithrewahugenewyearpartyat thetheatreandmadeeveryone,includingmyselffeelbetteraboutstartingoverinthenew year.Itookbabysteps.Andthismethoddidhelp,greatly. 11

Irealizedthattraumaisincrediblytough,andthereisnoeasywayout.Youhavetoputin thework,totryandgetyourlifeback.Nothingwaseasy.IrememberonetimeIthought aboutwhattheymightbedoingatthechurchandtriedtousethismethodanddistract myselfbymakingasoup,butasIwaspouringthecanintothepot,Ijuststartedweeping,I triedtokeepitin,butIcouldn’t.Sonaturally,Ithought;‘fuckthis,thismethodisstupid,I justwanttogohideinacornerandcry.’butIforcedmyselftomakethesoup,andyou knowwhat?Ithelped.Thismethod,slowlybutsurely,didhelp.

Duringthistime,IlistenedtoTaylor’ssong“sad,beautiful,tragic”andthemusicbetween thechorusandversereallyhitmehard.Buttherewassomethingcalmingaboutthesong.I thinkmaybelookingathowhappyTaylorwasnow,andallthemusicshewasmakingand howshenolongerfeelsthewayshedidwhenshewrotethissong,helpedmeandcalmedme, subconsciously.

6. my acting career is over

hello?

isanyoneoutthere?

hello? hello?!

*sigh”

willanyoneevercome?

williteverend?

willitalwaysbelikethis?

willieverrecover?

whodoitell?

whocanitrust?

canitrustanyone?

ihavetofight

onlyicandecidewhetheritends. whetherthingswillchange.

Weatheriwillrecover

whoicantell

whoicantrust.

isthereabirdintheair, that’sfree?

alittlegirlwho’shavingfun, swinginginthetree

ifso,canibefreelikethebird

orcanibehavingfunlikeher

andwillmyactingcareer ever beover?

Middecember,ithadbecometoomuch.Ineededtocomecleantothepeoplearoundme. TherewasnowayIcouldkeepthisup.Ihadreadalotofbooksabouthowtocopewith panicattacksandoneofthethingsthatwasstressedineverybook,Ihadreadwasthat;you cannotkeepthingsorganizedandcalmerifyou’repretendinglikeeverything’sokay.Ihad tokeepthisactupatthechurch,butwithotherpeopleinmylife,Ihadtocomeclean.SoI did.Itoldmyfriendsatthetheatre(higuys.)

Weusegoogleslidesalot.SoIdecidedtowriteononeslide,thesimplesentence:“I’mfalling apart”andthenjustelaborateandexplainwhatwasgoingon.Ofcourse,theymadejokes becausetheycouldn’tunderstandtheseverityofthesituation,buttheyweresosupportive andputtingintowordsandsayingitoutloud,helpedimmensely.Afterthat,things changed.Istartedgettingmypanicattacksincontrol.IwasabletoventtothemandI reliedonthatsupportsomuch.Thisalsomeantthat…..Willcouldknow.

Ididn’tknowhowIfeltabouthimfindingout.IwantedWilltoonlyseethebestsidesof mylifeandpersonality,andthiswastheuglyside.ButIthoughtmaybebyshowinghimI wasn’tperfect,hewouldunderstandmemore.Hedidn’treallyunderstand,since,again;it wasdifficulttounderstandtheseverityofthesituationfromalistener’spointofview.I toldaverybriefversionofwhatwashappening,nothinglikehowdeepI’mgoinginthis book.Hedidn’tsayitwasstupid,heseemedconfused.IloveWill,andeventhoughhe didn’tunderstand,lettinghimknow,andhearingfromhimthatit’sprobablynotthat bigofadeal,gavemeasenseofsecuritythatIhadn’tfeltinawhile.

Hewaswrong.Thatweek,Ishoweduptothechurchandtheysawmeandgavemea strangelook.Iwentupandsaidhiandtheysaidtherewasafairgoingoninthebackof theyard.Theyleft.Iwentout,theyweren’tatthefair.Igotcottoncandy,hopingmaybeI wouldjustrealizethatIdidn’tneedthem.Afterfinishingthecottoncandy,Iwentbackin andhadthemostintense

panicattackIhadeverhad.Theroomwasspinning,Icouldn’tbreathe.Ifellonthefloor andstartedscreamingforhelp,asbestasIcould.Peoplewerestaring.Carlwasthereand startedfreakingout.Hehelpedmeupandtookmeoutsidetothefair,Isawthemallthere, talkingandpushedcarlbackinside.Iexplainedtohimwhatwasgoingonandhelaughed inmyfacebutdecidedIneededtogetawayfromthem.Sowegotintohistractor.Hehad originallycomeforchristmaspackagesandthechristmasceremonybuthetoldthemthat he’llcomebacknextweekend.Igotinhistractorandhadback-to-backpanicattacksfor around10minutes,whilehewasdriving.Aftertheystopped,wewenttogogetsomefood andIsleptinthebackofthetractor.

Iwroteinmyjournal: “Icanstoppretending.Icanstopactinglikeeverything’sokayandjustbeamess,openly, untilthingssettledown…ifthateverevenhappens.”

LettingpeopleinisscaryandIfeelasthough,Ialreadyoversharealotandlettingpeople inonsomethingsofuckingtraumatizingandterriblewasdifficult.Butafterthehard part,gettingpasttheawkwardnessofcomingclean;camethe…it’sdifficulttofindaword butit’sliketheheavyloadovermyheadwasn’tgone,butitwaseasiertocarry.

Theseedsofthepainwereplantedinoctoberbutitallcamecrashingdownindecember,as Ialreadydescribed.December5th,waswhenIfoundout,andwhat’sinterestingis;that wasthefirstdayofchristmasceremonyreadings.

Itstartedoutabsolutelyshockingandruinedeverythingwithinasplitsecondandturned intolongstretched-outperiodsofpainandsufferingthatIhadnoideahowIcouldever recoverfrom.

Buttherewasonethingthattiedthistimeintoonebiggiantknot.christmas,theholidays, red,green,white,christmassongs,cookies,andworstofall,atatimelikethis;happypeople.

Peoplebeinghappyduringtheholidays,carefree,lookingforwardtoseeingtheirfamilies andreallyenjoyingthechristmasseason,takingitallin.Andthentherewasme;lostin myworries,scaredtodeath,everyminuteoftheday.EverytimeIthoughtthingscouldn’t getworse,therewereglimpsesofevendeeper,evenheavier,evenmorestingingpain.

Itwasoddbecauseitwaslikethebeginning,like:

“Here’sthechristmasseason!Andthepainbegins!”

Iwalkedintothechurch,after10minutesofpreparingmyselfnottocry,scream,stormout orlosemymind.Iwouldseeredribbons,thebeautifulchristmastreesetupattheentrance, glimmeringatglowing,withsuchgrace.Goldenribbonlacesthestaircase,andIsitdown inconstantdespair.Thewreathisuponthedoor,thewholechurchsmellslikecandlesand evergreenspikes.Thekidsarecarolling“oholynight”“gloria”and“wewishyouamerry christmas.”Ilookupattheceilingandthink:

“whatahappy,joyful,beautiful,magical,pure,andterribletimetobemiserable”

WhatImeantwas;thisissuchabeautifulandmagicaltimeandIcan’tenjoy itbecauseofallthepainIamin.

It’slike,happinesswashonestlythemostpainfulofall,iftheentireworldwassad,whileI wassad,itwouldfeelmopyandgrossandmiserablebut,itis10xlesspainfulthanseeing theworldgoonaroundyou,seeingeveryoneenjoytheirtimeandtheonlythingyoucando isjustsitthere,completelyparalyzedandunabletosmile.

Andthecherryontop;will&emmawerecelebratingtheiranniversary.AndIsatthere, watchingitallhappeninfrontofme.

December22nd,IwritetoCarl:

“Thistime,12monthsago,Imetwill.Mylifebeganagain.Everythingwasgreat,and nowIsithereandallIcandoislookback.”

It’ssofuckingparalyzing,oneofthethingsIsaidatthebeginningofthisbookandthatI thinkaboutalotwas:

“whenwe’retryingtomoveonandthingshavebecometerrible,themomentswealwaysgo backtoaren’tthemundaneones.Theyarethemomentsyousawsparks,feltstars,sawyour futurebeforeithappenedandthensawitslipawaywithoutanywarning.”

Livingthroughthepain,christmas,theholidays,thenewyear,will’sbirthday;itwasso tough,notonlybecauseIwasbeingbetrayedeveryminuteofeverydaybutalsobecause;life wasoncebeautiful,andcontentandnormalandIcouldrememberit,asawisewoman oncesaid all too well.

8.frozenintime,stuckforeternity

ThemomentIrealizedthatthingsweren’tgoingtogetanybetter. Isawthismomentofrealizationcoming,Itotallyknewitbut,itdidn’tfeelasparalyzing asIthoughtitwouldbe,onceithappened.Irealizethat…thisishowthingsaregoingtobe fromnowon.

IrememberaparticulardayinwhichIwassittingatmytableatthechurchandIwas thinking,butitwaslikenothingwasgoingon.Itwasaprettyquietdayatthechurch,we weretheonlyone’sthere,asidefromthenunsandstaff.Thereweresomepeoplecomingin andout,itwaswindy,Icouldhearit.Wellintothemorning,earlyintothenoonandit justfeltlikenothingwasevergoingtohappen,everagain.WewouldjustsitandIwould justkeeppretendinglikeIdon’tknowwhatthey’redoingandtheykeeppretendinglike theydon’tknow.Wewouldsit.Nothingwouldeverhappenagain.It’sthekindoffeelingI hadneverfeltbefore,andthekindIcouldn’timagineanyoneeverbeingabletodescribe.I walkedoutandsawthebaretrees,thefrozenlakeinthedistanceandthegrayanddim sky.Therewasafuneralgoingoninthedistance.Suchsorrowfilledme.Lookingback,I couldnoteverexperienceitagain,withoutcompletelycrumblingtopieces.Thepeopleinthe distancelookedasthoughthey’dgivenup,andunderthisgraysky,standingonthecracks ontheground,feelingthechillofthewind,intheshadeofthebaretrees,Ihadtoo. Ilookatthefrozenlakeandthinkofwill.HowhewasrightaroundandIamhere,frozen intime,freezinginthecold,completelydefeated.Ithinkofhowmuchhealwayssmilesand laughs.Howhetoo,hasexperiencedhardshipandsomeoneasbeautifulandmagnificent ashim,hasastillnessandaseriousnesstohim.Nooneiseversafe,Ithought.Noonewill everbesafe.

Iwillneverbefree,Iwillbehereforever,andwhenI’mnot,I’llbescreamingforthepanic attackstostop.Therewasnoescape,nobackdoor,nothingIcoulddotogetoutofthishell,I hadcreatedandmadealovelyhomein.

TherewasnothingIcouldfeel,thinkof,oreventrytograspat,thatIthoughtmightbea rescue.

Iwalkalongthewillowtree,inallofitsprotection,andglanceatthewallsofmychamber ofsorrow.Igoovertothelakeandjuststare,forminutesonend.It’slikeIcanseemylife fadingawaybeforeme,unabletohangonandsavemyself.

Butit’snotfast,ohnono;it’sslow,andgrayanddullanditdoesn’tandwon’tcontinueto happenwithouteveryinchofmybeinghavingtofeeleverysecondofit.Whystickaround forthat?

Whynotjumpintothislakeandjust die?

Breaktheice,anditallends.

No.Noway,IrunbacktothetreeandscreamasloudasIcan,for…. help? reassurance? anyone? anything?

“Help!”Iscream.

AfriendofCarl’s,whomIhadseenacoupleoftimes,comesuptomeandasksmewhyI’m screaming.

“CanIstayatyourplaceforalittlewhile?”Isaid. Iwasn'tthinking,Ijustneededawarmplacetobe.

HeaskedmeifIwasafriendofcarl’sandIsaidyes.HebroughtmeintohiscarandIsat inthebackseattryingtogetasmuchheatasIcouldfromtheheaters.

“Sowhatwereyoudoingoutinthecoldlikethat?”Somethingalongthoselines,hesaid “Iwasn’toutthereforlong,Ihadjustcomeoutofthechurch,nottoolongbeforeyoufound me. ”

Werodearoundthetownforalittlewhilelongerbeforestoppingatalittle

two-storyhouse.Idon’tknowwhy,butIcouldn'tgohome,Icouldn’tgoseemyfriendsat thetheater,orwill.Ineededtojustbeawayfromeveryone.

Ilaydownonhiscouchandhegotmesomewater.Hehadabunchofcamerasand photographyequipment.Itwasareallycozyplace.

“Soapparently,theweather’sgoingtogetbettersoon..”Hesaysasthewindshowloutside. “Youdon’tlookcomfortable..”Hesaid.

Hegotuptogomakemesometea,hehadasmalllittlekitchenandwentuptothestove.

Putsomewaterinandopenedadrawerofvariousteabags.Hestartedtalkingaboutthe newyear,theweather,aboutcarl,andIwasn'treallylistening.Itwasdoneprettyshortly andheputateacupfullofpinkishteadownonthetable.

Istartedweepinguncontrollably.Ihadafewsipsofthetea,itwasverydelicious.Heasked meifIwantedtospendthenightandIsaidno.Hegavemesomeblanketstowrapmyself inandsentmeonmyway.

Iwentbackintothechurchandsatthereinsilencefortherestoftheday.Theywere whispering,andtalking,andIwasjuststill,nodistractionstomakeitlooklikeI’mnot payingattention,Ijustsat.

Itwasallonlynumbfromhere.Ijustshowedupandwasthereandnothingelsewas happening,Iwasn’tthere,Iwasgoneandnothingwasgoingtobringmeback.

Ihaddecideditwastimetogiveup,everyonealreadyknew,itwouldbebetterifIjust continuelivinglikethis.

‘It’snotgoingtogetanybetter..”Ithought.

9.movingonandhealing

Movingon.healing.Canitevenhappen?Isitevenpossible?Atthebottomofthebarrel, withnocluehowanythingwilleverimproveorbeworthit.Whatcanyoudo?Doyoueven wanttomoveon?Doyouevenwanttoheal?

Timeisafunnything.

Itmakessomuchseemsmaller,lookingback;sometimesItryandgaslightmyselfinto thinkingthatthiswasn’tthatbadandthatmaybeIwasoverreacting.But,thathas nothingtodowithwhatwashappeningatthetime,ithastodowiththepassingoftime. It’scrucialtorecognizethatwearen’tgoingtohealrightaway.Ittakestimeandwork. Thepainbegins,andyouhavenoideawhatthefutureholds.Thefear,thescreaminginto theairtosilencetheloudthoughtsofpanic.Youcan’tfindanyreasontokeepfighting,you can’tfigureouthowit’lleverbeokay.Everyrelationship,plan,andaspectoflife,isnothing andhasfallentopieces.Nothingisevergoingtobethesameeveragain.Youdon’tknow whetheryouneedtocometotermswiththishellortryandescapeit.Everymomentfeels likealoudbang,aloudcrashlikeeverythingisjustshufflingaround,crashing,breaking, shattering,andburning.Youscreamandbangandeverythingrattlesinthebackofthe truck,you’rein.Youcanhearthefirespreading,aseverything,everyoneyoucareaboutis slowlymovingfurtherandfurtherawayfromyou.Youcanheartheflamescrackingand thescreamingofeverymemoryyou’vemade,burningtoashes. Thenthedustsettles.

How willlife ever goback tonormal?

Afteryou’velosteverything,isthereevenanythingleftthatyoucangraspat

andretrieve?

Thewordheal.

Whatdoesitevenmeantoheal?Doesitmeanthateverythingcancontinuethewayitwas, evenimprove?Ordoesitmeantolearnhowtolivelife,inadifferentway,soyoucan silenceandshutoutthebigtvscreen,infrontofyourface,replayingallthecrashingand burning?

Ifit’sthelatter,isthatenough?

Canyoujustadjustandlivelife,afterhavingbeenthroughhell?

Canyoujustlivedifferently?Andhavethatbegoodenough?

Theanswerstothesequestionsarethehardesttoanswer.Whatyouneedtorememberisto bekindtoyourself.

Youwillhealandyouwillmoveon.

10.fakeaccounts

Thesuccessoffakeaccounts,Icouldn’thavebeenmoreproud.ThefirstweekofJulyandit wasalreadychangingmylife.Thatfirstweekwassosurreal,Ithinkmywholelifewasjust improvingandthingswerestartingtobecomemuchbetter.Itfeltgreatbecausethatbook wassomethingIwassopassionateabout.Ihadbeenworkingonitforawhile,soIwasa prettydifferentpersonwhenitcameout,comparedtowhenIhadbegunthewriting process.Iliketothinkofbooksastattoos,sometimes,Iobviouslydon’thaveanybutIreally likeaskingpeoplethestoriesbehindthemandsomethingthey’dsay“ohyouknow,Idon’t reallylikethisonethatmuchanymore,butitreallywellrepresentsacertainpointintime inmylife”andthat’showIfeelaboutthisbook,atimecapsule.Reflectingishonestlyfun.I thinkwritingissupposedtobefun,evenwhenwritingaboutsomethingseriousordifficult, itfeelssogood.Itjustconnectswithyouandissomethingforyourself.Youknow,puttingit outandhavingitresonatewithpeopleisamazingbutIthinkforme,personally;writingis somethingyoushoulddoforyou.Ilearnedsomuchaboutmyself,workingwithotherpeople andwhatIwanttosayandhowIwanttosayit.I’lltakethelessonsthatIlearnedwhile writingfakeaccounts1,withmefortherestofmylife.Sometimesitjustcomesnaturally,I thinkoneofthemostimportantthingsasacreativepersoniscarvingouttimetoworkon yourart.Ithinkallofitjustcomesdowntoyourrelationshipwithyourself,Ithink prioritizingmyselffromthebeginninghasreallybeenasaviortome.Also,beingableto determineyourownsuccessandnotlettingnumbersorotherpeopledetermineitforyou.I amsomuchhappierwhenI’mproudofmyselfthanwhenotherpeopleareproudofme.I knowmostpeoplelikeamixofbothbut,aftersuchintensetrauma,I’verealizedthatIam theonlyonethatmatters.Alltheingredientsinfakeaccountsarereallyversatilebecause thereareheavysubjects,happysubjects,introspectiveandthinking-outside-of-the-box practicesandlotsoftimelesswriting.IamalwayswritingandI’mnotinsanelygoodat writing,butIkindoflikeitthatway,youknow;figuringstuffout,notcaring,that’sme. SomechaptersonFakeAccounts1justkindofcametome-Ilovetothinkofwritingasthis magicalcreaturethatyouneedtocatchandexpandon,we’retrulyjustvesselsforartand

sometimesyoudohavetoworkhardtomakeanideacometolifebuttherehavebeenafew chaptersthatjustkindofalmostwrotethemselvesinaway.Likemychapter“comingout”I wrotethatchapterin15minutesorsomethinganditalljustcamereallyeasily.It’soneofthe thingsIloveaboutwriting.

thisbook:

Istartedputtingthisbooktogether,superrecentlybuttherewerebriefnotesIwrotethatreally begantheprocess.IwasthinkingalotaboutthetraumaandhowmuchIhadtosayaboutit, andhowthistime,ayearago(aroundmarchorapril);Iwastryingmyhardesttomoveon, ThenIstartedworkingonfakeaccountsandthatreallyhelpedmemoveonasIalready describedbut,italsomademerealizethatIhaveaskillIcanuse. Withthisbookthough,Ijustcouldn’tstopwriting,therewassomuchIwantedtosayandthe ideaofitbeingamini-bookwasalreadyestablishedsoIneededtoshortenitdown.AsI alreadysaid,originallyforthis“mini-book”Ihadwrittenaround160chaptersandthenI cutitdowntojust10.Again,Ican’tsaythisenough,IJUSTcouldn’tstopwriting.Somuch wasinmymindandIjustwantedtosharemystoryandgetitallout.

Iwasinthelibraryawhileagoandbeingtheremakesmethinksomuchabouttheearlydays ofwhenIfirstfellinlovewithwriting.I’vealwayslovedwritingreallyemotionalstoriesabout myorotherpeople'slife.I’vealwaysbeensointriguedwithbooksthathitsuchadeepstoneofa person’spsyche.Ithinkbeinganauthoristhebestjobandthebestcraft.There’snothingthat connectspeopleandthere’snothingthat’samoretellingwindowintosomeone’ssoulthana booktheywroteabouttheirlife.Comingfromthisplaceofhurtandtraumaandbattle woundsandyoumanagetoturnitintosomethingthatyou’reproudof,andsomethingthat otherpeoplecanenjoyandthatbringsacceptanceandlightandjoyintotheworld,there's nothingbetterthanthat.Writingthislastchaptertoo,it’slike;Itookallthattraumaandyou know,notjusttheexperiencesbutallthosememoriesthatwereatonepointunbearabletothe pointwhereIcouldn’tfunction,Itookthatandputitintoabookthatmighthelpsomeonebut moreimportantly,helpedme,andI’mnotafraidtosaythat,I’mnotafraidtobeselfish.This bookisforothersbutitismainlyforme Writingthishonestlygavemeclosure,thegreenlight tomoveonandcontinuewritingandlovingWillandI’mnotafraidanymore.December,

christmas,thechurch,thesnow,thealbumthatcameoutthen(red),Iputitallintosomething betterandmadeitthethemeofabookaboutmytrauma.Youknow,thedeluxeversionsareall christmassy,that’sthetheme.AndasItalkedabout,christmasmademesosadthatyear becauselifewasfallingapartandIhadnoideahowanythingwouldbeokay.Butbywriting thisbook,I’mkindofreclaimingchristmasinaway.Itwasmine.Theytookitfromme.They tookthingsfrommethatwilltakeawhiletofullygetback,andI’mtakingitslow,and christmaswasoneofthefirstthingsItookback.Whoknows?MaybeI’llwriteanentirebook aboutthenextthingItakeback,makeitanadventure.AllIknowis;hardexperiencesaren’t justhardtodealwith,they’rehardtomoveonfrom.Andthat’swhatthiswholebookhasbeen about.Yes,thingscrash,andtheyburn,butifyoucan’tgetclosureifyoucan’tprocessthose emotionsandletgoofthethoughtssaying“whatifIdidthisdifferently”or“whatifIdid thatdifferently”you’renevergoingtoheal.Butjustdothatworkanditiseasy,Iswearit. IgotthroughthehardestthinganyonecouldgothroughandIgotthroughtheaftermathandI amtellingyouthatyoucantoo.

Gofightthememories,go!

Thereisnothingholdingyoubackfrommovingonandgettingthatgreenlighttomoveon andlive.

Reallylive.

Maybeyou’llevenputyourtraumaintosomethingmeaningfulasIdid.

IwrotethisbooktoreleaseeverythingandImeaneverything.

AndI'mnotsureifitwaspouringmythoughtsintoit,workingonthecoverandmakingthe themesobeautifulbuttragictolookat,thepassionatesolidarity,orifitwasjustsimplytime passing,butsomethingwashealedalongtheway.

Sometimesyouneedtotalkitover(overandoverandover)forittoeverreallybe...over.Like yourfriendwhocallsyouinthemiddleofthenightgoingonandonaboutsomething.You havecompletedthisbook,andhey,maybenowwecanallagreetoputwhateverthepastis; behindusandopenanewdoor, ittrulyfeelslike hmm… whatdotheycallit? healing.

“didsomethingsyoucan’tspeakof butatnightyouliveitallagain”

January26th,2022:

Ilookupandseethestars,walkinghome,donewithalltheshit.It’slateatnight,the airissharp,andIcanhearthecricketsandfeelthetreesbrushpasteachotherinthe wind.Iaskmyself; Isitallreallyover? Canitreallybeover?Aftereverythingthat happened,willitalljustgoaway,eventually?

Iwalkuptothehouseandgetoninstagramtomaketayloredits.Afewhourspassby andIrealizeit’sgettinglateso Igotosleep.Around4:30,Iwakeupandheara strangenoise.Allthethoughtsofthechurchfillmyhead.Thestress,thenightmares, thepanic.Istumbleoutofbedtogotothechurch.Why?Idon’tknow…forclarity? Igetthereand Icanfeelthepresenceofsomethingaroundme.I’mnotsurewhat. Iwalkclosertothetablesandheara“whoosh”sound.Igetononeofthetables,pick uponeofthefirelightbulbsthatwereonthewall.Iswingitaroundlikeasword screaming“Showyourself,ghost.”

SuddenlyIfeltapresencepushupagainstmeandIfellbackontothefloor,fromthe backofthetable,intoanothertable.IseethecrossabovetheentrancelightupandI cannotbelievewhatIamseeing.IscreamasloudasIcanforsomeonetocomeand help.Suddenly,Ifeelthepresenceleaveandallthethoughtsofpanic,frombefore floodingmymind.Usallwalkingintothechurchtogether,playingcards,laughing, readingbibleverses,decodingallthemeanings,tellingthemaboutallthethingsthat theywouldlatergoontofindout,weren’ttrue.Allthepanic,themfindingout, beingparalyzed,andbeingunabletodoanythingtochangewhathadhappenedbut cry.Istartedcryingandscreamingwiththetormentandthrewthechairsaround untilIfeltalittlebitbetterandleft.Iwalkedhomeinthedark,terrifiedasshit.I wasjustprocessingthat.Ihadseentheholyghost.Igothomeandjustsatthere, shocked,ifanything.IcouldnotbelievewhatIhadjustseen.

sacredprayer

haunting…ghosts,thepast. whatarethewaystheycanhauntyou?

they’reguests,revisitinganoldfamiliarplace trueinhabitantswhodied quietly,almosthappy,withthelightsout. theyaretheghostsyou…letyousleep whospeak,iftheyspeakatall; intotheearclosesttothepillow, offeryouassurancesofdawn. butwhatevertheydo… they leave no proof.