Moving on


I’ve been pondering holocaust survivors and how they move on, what that looks like. I think it was homework last week, or at some week when I went anyways. I think they don’t define themselves based on being holocaust victims or survivors even. They find something else to define themselves. Or maybe not just one thing.  Perhaps I think that is missing for us, for me. I can’t speak for the others here in that.  I have all these labels-  wife, mother, survivor, even victim (though I am working to remove that label)  yet in all of those things, there is nothing that is just me.  Nothing that doesn’t involve the demands others place upon me.   I need something………. a paying job, volunteer work, school? I don’t know what exactly, but something. Something more. Something where I am none of those previously mentioned things. Something where I am just a person, just me, just us? I’m not sure that part of it matters.

There are other things there too.  Fears? Things holding me back.

Foremost is the thought, the idea- planted by the mother, that if I don’t work… no- don’t bring home a PAYCHECK then I am less than……… That I have to bring home money to have worth.  That makes me……  feel as though I have to get a job.  Why should I let what she said, what she taught me be true? Just because she made it seem that was the only choice does NOT make it so.   I can and DO choose to dismiss that. To rid myself of that limiting view. Truth is that a paycheck while nice, oh yes it is very nice, is NOT the only reason to do something. Not the only way to find something that is mine.  And maybe even a paycheck makes it somehow less.   Is it really giving back? Is it really giving if I get paid?  Or is it more special, more significant to me if I volunteer? If I give my time free?  Really that is what it is isn’t it? Giving away my time. Time as we know is so precious to us, to me. It is here and gone in a flash. It is still this concept that makes little sense, yet I am forced to live with it, live IN it.

A few things come to mind.  Petsmart had a hiring sign out. I could work with animals and get paid.  Animal shelters always need volunteers (would have to be sure it is a no kill shelter first) .  There is the idea to find an online course or so and go back to school Perhaps earn a degree in library science or vet tech.   Those are just ideas. Maybe it doesn’t even matter what it is, but just something.

Im aware that we lost our 20’s.  That time when many people get careers, all of that, we didn’t do. We were busy healing. And that is what we needed, that isn’t what I mean. I’m angry that we lost all those years. 10 years, a decade. Nor do I want to get caught in that anger. Can I use it for good? Use it to somehow benefit? To something?????   I’m aware that it is what it is. Those years are gone, nothing will bring them back.  In fact they were what we needed at the time. We wouldn’t change them. Yet….. I wish…….. How that holds me back? I’m not sure- yet it figures in somewhere as I wrote it here.

I hold me back- better put– fear of not being ‘healed’ enough. Not being ‘well enough’ to work to volunteer, to be in the world without the buffer of Troy or Nathan.  The what-ifs— That really there is no way to dismiss it. No way to make it go away. It’s simply a “feel the fear and do it anyways” Put another way- courage.  Courage to try. Courage to be willing to fail, willing also to succeed. Yes there is fear in success.

I finished a book recommended by Mary on the journal group- about exorcisms,exorcists, and evil.  I really enjoyed it. Maybe that isn’t the right term.  I found it a good read. I learned. It was hard to read as well. It was dark, it made me aware of evil, (not that I wasn’t before)  I have thoughts on the book.  Stuff I want to write down, to ‘talk’ out yet I need time to process it before I write it. Time to sit with it.



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