This I Believe

Maria - Denver, Colorado
Entered on June 4, 2007
Age Group: 30 - 50
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I lift the plastic bin containing my socks and with a jerk, send the contents flying into the air. Reaching down, I choose a bundled sock from the floor of my bedroom and chuck it. It hits the back of my closet and lands in a pile of shoes. I pick up another sock and repeat the process. I want to cause destruction. I want to leave things in disarray. I want chaos some place else other than inside me. So, I throw socks, toss clothes, kick sheets, upturn dog beds, fling pillows, and rip up journal pages stained with the words I can’t say out loud most of the time, the words detailing the anguish I am left with after the most challenging ten months of my life.

My marriage of eight years ended last summer. Then, I fell blindly in love with someone else, but the feeling was not mutual and his sudden return to his former girlfriend has left me numb. In the process of healing from the sting of rejection and loss, my life took an unexpected turn when I unearthed the repressed memory of an acquaintance rape, which resulted in a pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. I have always remembered, quite vividly, the pregnancy and miscarriage. But the rape was kept from my conscience mind, until recently. I am in crisis, and considering my year, tearing up my bedroom seems like acceptable therapy. I can release the seemingly endless supply of grief, heartache, and emptiness without hurting others or myself. Throwing socks eases my pain and creates a space to consider and talk with others about my emotional discomfort.

I believe it is important to interact with even the most painful of memories. I must let it out even if it feels like torture. It is intimidating and heartbreaking to make my sexual assault real. It is difficult to accept it as fact, but I must for the sake of my future self. I must take hands with the memory that hurts like hell and walk with it for a bit, so I can eventually release the negative grip it has on me. I might throw socks again and again before I reach a peaceful place, but I believe it is necessary. For in that simple act I will find my way to genuine peace, the kind that touches the core of my being and reflects positively on the world around me.