Life, As I See It

When I was a child, maybe six or seven years old, my family decided to go to the county fair.  I grew up in a small, backward sort of town.  I imagine that at that time, the county fair was a major entertainment event.  But for all I know, it was just something to do so my parents could get us all out of the house.

So, my aunt, who is actually only six years older than I, so I think she was 12 or 13 at the time, wanted to ride this crazy whirling spider contraption thingy.  Not being a big fair-ride kinda gal, I can’t really tell you what the ride actually was.  It was not a rollercoaster; not a carousel; not a water balloon target game.  It twirled in the air as one big unit, like a gyroscope, tilting this way and that way, and the seats inside the metal spindles spun around on their own in all kinds of directions. 

So, my aunt will not ride the ride alone; and no adults wanted to go with her.  So, next child in line, I was elected, much against my will, to be her contraption-riding partner.  I must have put up quite an argument.  My dad’s last words to me before I was locked into place went something like this: “If your stomach starts to feel funny, scream, and it will stop.”

Yes.  Perfect.  “Scream, and it will stop.”  My dad meant, scream and the feeling in your stomach will stop; I heard, scream and the ride will stop.  Either way, the result was the same. I screamed my head off, I screamed my throat raw, whirling at God only knows what unsafe speeds: STOP IT!  STOP IT!  STOP IT!

Let me tell you, they do NOT want to stop the ride. 

So now, I am 43.  I have told that tale before, and who knows how different it is from the real event.  Still, what I take away from it was Dad’s advice.  “Scream, and it will stop.”

It has been 6 weeks since I made a major decision in my life to stay in the relationship with Sam despite the issues we will most certainly have to face.  I had hoped to face them together.  I had imagined we would love each other through our problems.

But it has also been 6 weeks since Sam decided that he (not we) needed “time.”  And ever since, he has been juggling the pros and cons of a relationship with me.  Some things that may seem trivial to an outsider; and some things that I believe are heavy and deserve deep soul searching and consideration.

And during this time, my heart and soul have been tossed and juggled.  I have been, literally, sick to my stomach.  I have cried for hours, heaving sobs of hurt.  I have felt strong (for a few minutes at least); I have felt that I could walk away and let it go if I had to.  But those are all moments happening while I am still here, waiting – not leaving.

But what I have done instead is stay on the ride.  When the alternative would be to simply stop the ride.  “Scream, and it ll stop.”  To decide I don’t want to be here anymore.  To decide something.

I did try, once.  After tearing my own heart apart, and deciding to stay, I realized with great pain and disappointment that Sam did not share my epiphany.  And so, I tried to make another decision – the decision for both of us.  This was three weeks ago.  I decided we should go our separate ways.  I decided I would not go through hell once more just to learn at the end of the trek that he did not want to be there, to be with me.

And still, here I am.  One would think the horrible anxiety of what is next on the ride, the constant emotional lurching in my stomach, the sheer exhaustion of my heart, all this would somehow propel me to decide to get off the ride.  It hasn’t.  I still remain.

But every now and then I hear a whisper in my memory of a child, fearful, afraid, uncertain and not understanding the feelings in her stomach.  She says to me, “Scream.  And it will stop.”

So I scream.  Everytime the ride tips upward, I scream; everytime the ride tips downward, I scream.  “STOP IT STOP IT STOP!!!!!!!!”  I mean the ride; but that also serves to stop the lurching in my stomach.

I have been screaming for a couple of days now, and the ride is still going strong, no indication it is even slowing to stop.  Ain’t that the way?  I’ve decided I don’t want to hurt anymore; I want to get off this emotional blender.

It leaves me with no choice.  Now I am screaming:  WILL SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THE DAMNED RIDE?