Numb

I've been evaluating myself lately. Trying to figure out what has changed in me because of what has changed around me. Daddy and I have both talked about the ups and downs, the sunshine and the shadows, the roller coaster. For me, though, something has changed more than I had realized. I just figured it out yesterday after a woman finished yelling in my face. As I stood watching her mouth move as she ranted and raved, I thought very briefly about saying some ugly things to her. In November I would have. She would really have gotten under my skin. I was upset afterwards,  but not really because of her. I think it just activated my emotions which, for several weeks, have been pushed down to a place so deep that I didn't know it was even there. A place so deep that even when my throat starts to burn like fire and my eyes sting like knives, I can stop the tears because their journey from that depth of my heart is so long. I never used to be able to do that. I started thinking about it and realized that I really didn't care. I didn't care what she said to me and about me. In fact, I don't care about the vast majority of the things I cared about a month and a half ago. It's not that I have negative emotions about people or things- I just don't have positive ones either- I'm numb.

That shadow and sunshine thing- you can only take it for so long. Eventually, it seems, it turns to just shades of gray. I know this sounds like a bad thing, and I suppose in some ways it is. I can't say that I've been truly happy since December 15th. That's not to say that I'm walking in the constant pain and sorrow that I was during those first few weeks- that would kill me and destroy my family. I appreciate my husband, children and my few close friends more than I ever imagined possible. What has happened is that, instead of that constant pain, I'm just numb. In situations like the other day, it turns out to be quite a good thing. It's like my 'shield of numbness.' It protects me from issues that don't really matter.

The fact is that I just don't care as much. You name it and, except for my family, I don't care as much about it now as I did a month and a half ago. Some of it is the little stuff like the 50 million committments I had for my time. Some of it is bigger- like my persistant need to work to get people to like me. I just don't have the time or the heart for it anymore, and maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Some days, though, I miss the colors. The gray is exhausting in it's own ways. You have to pretend that the gray is normal. That it's always been that way. You have to forget that you ever saw the colors because thinking about them will hurt in such indescribible ways. You get tired of feeling guilty everytime you laugh, so you laugh less. You get tired of talking about it, so you talk less. You get tired of feeling like nobody understands, so you stop trying to explain. I believe that the colors (the sunshine) will come back some day- I have to believe that- but during this transition period I just have to be- numb. I prefer it that way. It hurts less.

Dear Daddy,
Let me give you the first two examples that come to my mind after just reading your letter. The first is my favorite. When those girls were tormenting me in high school, I didn't know who else to go to. Unfortunately for you, you were always the one I would turn to in the difficult times. I was so scared of them and what they might do to me. What you did that night didn't just prove to me that you can do an awesome impression of a big, scary black boyfriend on the phone. What you did showed me that I had nothing to be afraid of. That I was capable of protecting myself. That the words bullies use to scare you are just that- words. You didn't just think like a parent that night. You thought like. . well, exactly like I needed you to. Do you know how much that taught me that I have taken with me into motherhood? No, you probably don't know. The love, courage and humor that you taught me that night made me a better person.
If that's not enough for you, let me tell you the other thing. You found a way to push me to finish college. You get mad at me so rarely. There's nothing I hate more than disappointing you. Even though it wasn't easy for you to get mad and make it clear that I was disappointing you, you did what you had to do. If you had not done that, I would not be where I am today. I wouldn't have had the career opportunities that made me who I am. I may not even have met my husband. That push changed my life forever. I am forever grateful.
You have always known what I need. Whether it's agreement, support, rebuke or a big, black pretend boyfriend; you have always been there when I needed someone or something. You have encouraged me and taught me things too numerous to count. Have no doubts. I love you.