I watched "Finding Neverland" on Saturday and cried, not once, but several times... OK for most of the movie... all the while working on the puzzle I posted about. I thought I was just feeling emotional and (don't cringe) premenstrual, but today it occurred to me that my tears may have been something more. That movie is all about the loss of childhood imagination and innocence.
The exact moment I made this connection about that movies content and my reaction to it was also the exact moment I admitted out loud that I am in mourning for the loss of my own innocence.
Yes, I probably also lost some innocence when I started kissing boys. And some more the first time I snuck out of my parents house late at night. And even more as I dabbled here and there in debauchery of many forms...And that whole defy your parents wishes at all costs phase I went through was not so innocent... In short, somewhere along the line I grew up.
But that is not what I mean. What I mean is that two months ago I was accosted with one of the most vile acts available to man. and in that moment, I was stripped of an innocence I didn't even know I possessed. (see this post if you're confused)
My latent indignation concerning the topic has been quite a concern for some people in my life (mostly the men, but don't get me started on that right now).But really it's been rearing its ugly head in all the strangest ways. (i.e. anyone who's crossed my path in the last few months has gotten more than they'd bargained for in doing so).
But more on indignation, anger, justice... all the words that I have such mixed ideas about and such little space for... at a later time. Like I've said before, I refuse to let such feelings own me.
Back to my realization and my current reality.
The thought that struck me today brought out more than it's fair share of tears. Like I said... I am in mourning.
However, you might be surprised to know that...
this is what it looks like:
I just quit my job, and therefore have minimal responsibilities until roughly the first week in January. So I am able to revisit a child like state I lived in years and years ago.
I am allowing my mother to really be my mother again. She makes sure I eat each day. She divvy's out my controlled medicines to me each day. She keeps tabs on my where-abouts. and a myriad of other maternal duties I have not allowed her in years.
I am allowing my father to support me almost entirely financially. He is paying for my car repairs. He is helping pay for my media binge (I have been buying books, movies, and music left and right lately). And he is supporting my in-between-job few weeks now... Some things I haven't fully allowed him in a while.
And I... I am spending my days doing puzzles and yoga. I am remembering what it is to be child-like, those pure motivations of happiness. I need some time to feel untainted and unjaded. I am reverting back because I am in the swirls of a major trauma. (rest easy all. it is short-term and checked off by my healthcare professionals)
I am not delusional, or checking out of reality. I tried that already. It didn't work. This is a deliberate action I am taking on my road to recovery. But I feel like the most fortunate girl in the world to have that luxury and these parents that are allowing it all. I'll call it a Christmas time gift from... God?
Wasn't I a cute kid?