Discoveries

Sunday was the day freedom in a strange form for me...

I'm sitting at a women's dinner enjoying the meal with my female relatives and friends when my older sister blurts out some news.

"A wrestling dad passed away this week and his name was *****. Died from cancer in his back or something else related to his back."

I stopped cold and looked at her. Asked her when he graduated high school, blahblahblah.

"19**."

Holy crap. I went to the prom with this guy my senior year.

"Now back up and tell me everything."

She tells me he's been doing this-and-that, two kids, one wrestles, etc.

See the backstory to this is that on my prom night was the turning point for me in my battle of weight. Things got out of hand and he touched me inappropriately. From that point on, I've fought my weight and have hid behind it since.

I was, and still am, built pretty damn good. Great proportions, tall...name it.

With one caveat...

...being thin made me UBER vulnerable to men.

(No this blog isn't about to turn into male bashing...outta luck, folks)

Even through turn of events in the last three years its still in the back of my mind that if I'm thin and desirable I will be violated. It's been 22 flipping years. You'd think I could work through this.

Perhaps...just, perhaps.

I've told two people this until just now. My husband and my folks.

Now you know my deepest secret that began my fight against my weight. Somewhere, somehow this death is unlocking a door to healing. I feel it in my bones.

It's a freeing, bizarre, event for me. Well, most of life for me is bizarre so maybe its the only way for me. LOL. Those who know me will agree with that last statement.

Dreamt deeply about being at the morgue and watching them prepare the body. Even down to the details, odd but details, of him being embalmed and having his brains sucked out through a hose. The body was laid out in a blue suit (maybe because he was a cop) and was buried (feel free to laugh at this) in a coffin shaped like a wooden gun.

(So I dream in detail...sue me.)

The weirdest part of this is that I feel as if a tie to my past is severed....forever. Like vamos...no mas. Over. Done. Fini.

Yeah, of course it's severed.

He's dead.

But memories live on and healing, blahblahblah psycho babble - innerchild, yaddayaddayadda. Kinda sucks running around with baggage, yanno? Coming to terms with such a painful event sucks and so does hitting it head on like a hurricane.

I burned the pictures.

Dress was disappeared at my request when I revealed this to my parents.

and...

now this.

Talk about closure.