Yes, I would love to go ____with you, I say a week before the planned event. The first day after making plans, I think I can do this. By the day before the date, I am thinking of excuses to offer why I cannot go. Each day seems to get darker until nothing can pry me out of my apartment. I feel guilty, but even the guilt and imagined shame fail to get me to go.
Then here comes the guilt of offering to do something for someone and failing to keep my word. How can I expect friends to forgive me? How can I expect them to ever believe me or even continue to be my friend? What is in me that I cannot see that keeps them calling or talking to me? Some do give up; how can I blame them?
Tears pool just beyond my eyes. The dam of determination holds the liquid pain in check. I know if the dam bursts, the flood will drown me.
I once received a letter from someone who had walked the path I am walking. I put the letter away. A time came that I believed I needed to rid my life of the negative. The letter was among the material things I tossed. For a year or so, I believed what I had done was right and necessary. Now I would give up most anything to have that letter back.
Should you push yourself to endure the pain? Does facing it help you find relief or does it wear you down to the point of giving up?
Where are you, Dude?
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