I think I am an emotional pendulum. It is so hard for me just to let myself feel whatever it is I am feeling. I am constantly talking myself out of my own emotions. I can’t even find the words…For example, I am so relieved that my surgery is over, that I am healing physically, that I no longer have the weight on the unknown on my shoulders and I know I should feel happy about that, but I am so unresolved. I am trying to just let it go. I’ve said to myself that justice will come another way, that being free from the negativity is enough for me. It’s a lie. I think the hardest part is that I am lying to myself. I grew up believing in right and wrong. I grew up with a conscience. I grew up being taught values. All the movies and television shows I’ve ever watched wrap everything up in a nice little ball where the bad guy is taken care of in one form or another. Well….that’s never happened in my life, perhaps why I am pressing so hard now for justice. Demanding it. I’m not able to let go. I was absolutely devastated after the accident. Fractured. The physical was nothing compared to the emotional. It would have been easier if it were an unfamiliar, some random act from a nameless stranger. Instead it was someone I protected, despite what he did to me. It was someone I loved. Someone I trusted. It was someone who sat and watched me cry and bleed. He watched me cry and bleed. He watched me cry and bleed all over him. My literal blood on his literal hands. He watched me cry and bleed at his hands and left me to pick up all the pieces. And then he ran…no he hid. He hid behind his father and his friend, the attorney who advised him not to speak to me. He hid from the damage he caused. He hid from all responsibility. He hides still. All this hiding and all I ever asked him to do was take responsibility for his actions. I was never looking to make money off of this tragedy. I wanted him to get help. I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to do the right thing… and now I want justice. I want justice for myself because I deserve it. I can’t let it go. This need. My blood was on his hands and he simply walked away and that is not good enough for me.
Published by christiepage "pando pandemonium"
Confessions of a mad mind~ Author of A Practical Guide to Forgiveness from an Impractical Survivor and She was the Stuff of Stars, Christie Page was born in Falmouth, Massachusetts. She lived in the Nobska Point Lighthouse with her mother and father who were stationed there as a result of his service in the Coast Guard. Shortly after the family made their way to West Palm Beach, Florida where she grew up continuing her love affair with the ocean. She has two children Joshua 26 and Laura 24 and currently resides in South Florida. In 2015 Christie left her twenty year medical career to pursue her passion for writing full time and has been featured in the world’s largest mindful living publications including Chicken Soup for the Soul, elephant journal, Sivana East, Thirty on Tap and The Urban Howl. She was also a feature columnist for Controlled Chaos magazine. An active yogi, hoop dancing enthusiast and self-proclaimed whiskey chick, she is a third generation breast cancer survivor, recovering anorexic/bulimic and is on life six or seven of her nine lives. She has been homeless and sheltered, rich and poor, loved and hated and believes her experiences have lead her down a path of spiritual exploration and awakenings. Christie wishes to share her journey with others in an attempt to come to peace. She writes to clear space from the rolodex that is her muddled mind. Christie View all posts by christiepage "pando pandemonium"