I was thinking about the last time I tried to visit you. That scary time. I thought someone horrible had done something to you. I was so panicked and I didn't handle it correctly at all, because I didn't know how to. I ended up as the bad guy, when I was lost and too anxious to change things. It's not something that I particularly want to remember clearly, but I do remember each minute of it. I don't want to talk about it now, but I'll likely make myself write about it another time.
This memory makes me very uncomfortable. I know there was a better way for it to have happened, but I can't blame myself for reacting as I did. I know that, if anything, I should blame that stranger who was at your house, but that's just not how I like to think. I try not to blame other people, because I can't control them. I try to think about how I can take responsibility, how I can handle things moving forward. But that incident is a huge regret and truly resolving this mess is an option unavailable to me. There are times when it's better to defy personal philosophy, but that doesn't make the action feel right.
What I noticed today, though, is that I could handle that memory much better know than when it occupied me in the past. It's usual for me to have physical reactions to those kinds of memories, to deal with the feeling of helplessness. The energy helplessness creates is like a pliable clay streaming to places not quite defined, blurring back through some other unclear edge and creating an exasperating loop around my body. Not so much of that today. I was able to reflect while continuing what I was doing, with not even a troubled facial expression. I'm glad to be at a point where that is possible.
It's a step closer to being the right person again.
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