FRIDAY, JANUARY 21, 2000
my friend emailed this to me the other day....
i want to share it with you....
kisses........ me
I stop and look at the door - the door to the closet.
I have gone by this door everyday, sometimes a dozen times in a single day. But I hardly ever open it. I look at the door knowing what is inside. A jumbled mess of things ready to fall on me the moment the door is opened.
I hardly know
what's in there. Somethings placed long ago, some from just the other day. I think about what's behind the door, and know it's such a big task. I'm afraid to open it knowing that everything could fall on me.
The confusion grows. Should I deal with it? Should I just leave it like it is?
Then suddenly the door bursts open.
I put my foot and hand against it. Holding the contents in. Trying to keep everything from slamming to the floor. Through the small opening a few boxes fall out. My free hand reaches out to pick up one of the boxes. A little box - so small and tiny. I open it to find a harsh mess inside. Nope!!! I quickly close it shut. I'm not dealing with that. I throw it back into the closet through the opening.
I grab another box. I peek inside. The contents try to jump out at me. I feel the pain as it lashes out. I drop it and kick it back into the closet.
I pick up the last box that dropped. I stare at it. What will be in this one? Afraid to open it but needing to know. My frustration builds as I can't decide what to do. No, I already have decided. I'm just too scared to do it.
I close the door. And stand with the unopened box. I will deal with this. I have to. I've seen it before and didn't deal with it then. I must now. So I slowly open it.
I weep.
I grow angry.
I'm scared.
So much self doubt that I can actually handle this. But I must try. I throw the lid to the floor. Then I realize the contents aren't as bad as I thought. I can handle this. Barely, but barely is enough. I will get through this mess in the box. The memories, the pain, the sadness and the hurt.
I sigh heavily.
This closet will take a long time to clean. But one thing at a time they say. One thing at a time. One day my problems, my issues, my mind will be clear. Then I won't need to use that closet any more. Maybe then I'll use it to store the good things in life.