I’m doing my best tonight to stay with feeling overwhelmed. I’m frightened of the future. Frightened I may never recover. Frightened I will never be able to run again. At the same time I want to reach out to him because he can’t be who he turned out to be. I won’t – I’ll do the uncomfortable and feel the fear. It’s horrible.
We let people we love help construct our version of lived realities. We have to, because we spend time with them. We have experiences with them. We share our thoughts with them. Because we’ve developed trust, it’s likely we share other emotions that have helped to bond us to them.
But what happens when the person you’ve come to trust constructs a reality for you that has holes in it?
Some parts are just blatantly false, you come to learn. The dissolution of those portions, whenever and however that might happen, may rattle you to the core. And yet just enough is still true, or at least seems true, to perhaps keep those constructs alive, because you don’t know how much to tear down, and the prospect of tearing it all down can feel overwhelming, devastating, or confusing.
You are trying to figure out what to trust about this reality…
View original post 562 more words