Pandora's Box

Although I abandoned this blog, perhaps in an attempt to once again abandon myself, this one story line wasn't finished yet. It has plagued me these past three months. And yes, this Friday - tomorrow - will mark a significant anniversary for me - 90 days of abstinance from things that had begun to take over my life. I am still struggling. But I've learned so much about myself in the process, including getting a fresh perspective on this story and how it truly ends. It would take a novel to adequately explain to my own satisfaction, but for a degree of resolution, I will share a summation of the ending here.

Opening Pandora's Box starts here.

And what happened when Pandora opened the box? Well, for this Pandora, the days that followed changed my life forever. My "best friend" Tammy betrayed me the next day at school by telling all of our classmates that I'd had sex. Within 24 hours, I suddenly lost all of my friends, including Tammy. People avoided me, when not openly pointing fingers and laughing. And the one friend who stuck by me? One of the teachers called her mother and told her not to let her daughter hang out with me, as I was a bad influence. I was left standing alone in the playground, lost.

Somehow, that same day, the teachers found out and told my principal. The teachers shot me disgusted looks and showed a new impatience with me. Fortunately, my academic performance was stellar as I'm sure any errors would have been graded more harshly as well. The teachers were mostly nuns. As I associated them with the religion I was brought up in, I refused to go back to church and have not returned since. That day, felt abandoned by my religion, too, and therefore also by God. I lost all faith.

As was described in this story, when the principal found out, she insisted my mother come in and insisted I tell her what happened. My parents cried with disappointment. Their sadness and fears escalated into physical and emotional abuse. I am now 34 years old and I am still terrified of my parents. I moved over 2000 miles away to find a place where I feel safe.

In 24 hours, I lost all of my friends, the love of my parents and my faith in God. I have never been so profoundly desolate in all of my life.

Years of therapy, and I still feel that one afternoon ruined my life as I had once known it. I was never the same again.

One could say that I obviously started out misguided and self-centered, so I simply got what I deserved in the days that followed. And honestly, I am trying to figure out what preceded my obsession with Steve that may have created such a strong attraction - that prevented me from thinking through the potential consequences of my actions.

Some could argue that this experience made me who I am today, which isn’t all bad, so I shouldn’t feel so ashamed. In any case, twenty years later, I am haunted still. The shame has been lifting, but the pain and anger underneath it are almost more unbearable. But I'm learning to sit with those feelings, instead of trying to run away from them.

Although my "best friend" Tammy and I did not survive this encounter, surprisingly Steve and I did. We remained lovers ("bed buddies" would probably be the best descriptor of our relationship) for a few years (another very long story). I tolerated a lot of disrespect in my desperation to feel loved by him - the one person who hadn't abandoned me.

Steve and I lost touch many years ago. Our last interaction was over the phone; my bottled up anger - at him as well as at everyone else - finally bid him farewell.

Today, as I write this, I try to find sympathy toward him - at least for that first afternoon. I hope that wherever he is, he has not needed to spend the last twenty years recovering from that day.

I am still working on healing my wounds and I know that at some point I'll have to start making apologies for the many wounds I've inflicted in my desperate efforts to avoid this pain at all costs.

So, is this truly the end? Of course not.

I'm still learning and thus may be back again. ;-)