I’ve always wanted to, it’s just never really happened.
Next weekend the Alaskan Railroad is teaming up with one of my favorite breweries to host an Oktoberfest railway adventure. They’re calling it the Great Alaskan Beer Train – seriously! Beer, hors d’oevres, and hours of riding around Alaska in the fall – when this state is at its prettiest.
Sounds incredible to me.
Unfortunately, the almost $159 tickets makes it a bit out of my price range. I am a girl on a budget after all!
So as of next weekend; I will still never have ridden on a train.
And I've also never stopped on the train tracks. Ever.
(photo courtesy of Google Images)
I was thinking about that this afternoon, as I came to a stop a good 20 feet before the tracks – creating a serious gap between me and the car in front of me.
I could feel the heat of the car behind me questioning what I was doing. This is Alaska. Yes, we have a train, but it’s pretty darn predictable. And it’s not going to come barreling through without the barricades going down way in advance. There is no reason to be wary of the tracks otherwise.
But I have a deep seeded fear regarding lingering too long over those tracks. The mere thought causes my stomach to do flip flops.
That’s just not something you do; stopping on the tracks.
I’ve actually had friends make fun of me for this unfounded anxiety before. But still – I refuse to change my ways. I refuse to linger where one simply shouldn’t linger.
I’m the same way when it comes to my emotions.
Whenever something makes me feel too intensely, I pull back; the fear of being run over by those feelings far stronger than the emotions themselves.
I don’t ever like to give myself over to anger, or sadness, or grief. I prefer to hold back; allowing myself to feel nothing at all if that’s what’s necessary.
Because at least that’s safe. There’s no risk of allowing the hurt, or frustration, or depression to overcome me.
To define me.
To take away every last piece of who I strive to be.
I was discussing my anger towards my mother today with Dr. Headshrink. Even in our conversation, I was talking myself out of that fury. Laughing about it and acknowledging how silly it was that I would allow myself to be disappointed by this woman yet again when in reality; she has never proven herself to be capable of anything more.
I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to linger on the bitterness. It does me no good, it does her no good, and stopping on those feelings is much like stopping on the train tracks; it sets me up for impending disaster should the emotions spin out of control.
Dr. Headshrink made a good point about this anger though. She reminded me that anger is in fact an important component of the grieving process; that it’s a necessary feeling to work through.
And that I really have no one else to be angry at in my situation. I mean, who am I going to blame and point the finger at? There is no one responsible for my broken lady parts. No one who could have (or should have) done anything differently to save me this pain.
But my mother makes an excellent scapegoat. When I have no one else to rage at, she suddenly becomes a beautiful outlet for that anger.
Because the woman has spent my entire life letting me down.
And it’s OK to let myself feel that some days. It doesn’t mean I am going to become an angry person, or that I’m going to hang on to those feelings for days on end. In fact, I rarely hang on to anger for long in my adult life. I don’t wallow in sadness, or drown in self pity. The emotions have never come any closer to running me over than those trains I work oh so hard to keep a safe distance from. No matter how deep I fall, it’s typically only a matter of time before I wind up embracing the good again.
I’m an optimistic person. And that's why I am able to still find disappointment in my mother, even now; after a lifetime of her proving to me that she won’t ever be what I need. It's the same reason I allowed myself to be disappointed by the ex over and over again too. It's because I believe in people. Because no matter how many times they've hurt me, I want to believe that they are capable of more. That they have it in them to be better.
It’s because deep down, there is still a part of me that clings to the idea of her miraculously becoming the mother I always wanted.
It’s not ever going to happen (anymore than the ex is going to show up on my doorstep with lilies and promises he actually intends to keep), and as long as I let myself continue to have any expectations of her whatsoever; I will be eternally disappointed. But such is life. These disappointments cropping up now and again aren’t ever going to break me. And there is something to be said for being the kind of person who is able to at least hold on to a tiny shred of hope against an overwhelming amount of evidence speaking to the truth.
In the meantime though, it’s OK to let myself linger in that anger a bit. Because it’s necessary to work through the anger so that I can come out on the other side in one piece. Whole, optimistic, and ready to move forward with hope.
I’ve spent more time lingering near the train tracks these last few months than ever before. I have held on to feelings of sadness and remorse, and I’ve even ventured a bit into bitter. Rather than pushing it all away and running the other direction, I have allowed myself to feel some of these darker emotions without the paralyzing fear that they may take me over.
And now, I feel like a light is starting to break through. Like I’m becoming more myself again every day. Allowing myself to hope, and believe, and trust in this future of mine.
Letting the excitement for this next round sneak into my soul.
I hung out on the train tracks, and nothing bad happened. I didn’t get stuck, and I didn’t linger too long. I can feel myself pulling away from those heavy emotions now, even as I have moments where I get jerked backwards. Those moments don’t last long, and I’m only that much stronger as I start to pull away again.
I spent the last few months in what I would have always believed to be a dangerous position, and I didn’t get run over. I wasn’t crushed, and I didn’t wake to find myself strapped down; incapable of escape.
I think it’s over now, or at least; I think it’s coming to an end. And nothing catastrophic happened.
I'm still not going to go stopping on the tracks in real life anytime soon (I mean, seriously - doesn't that seem just plain idiotic to anyone else?!?) But this lingering on the emotional tracks didn't turn out quite as disastrous as I would have pictured.
I am still whole.
Intact.
One piece.
And looking forward instead of backwards.
Again finding the pieces of myself along the way.
