Virus in Quarantine

remembering some bad memories can't be good

The traumatic memories of my past should be erased entirely from my mind. The reason why is obvious. These memories are like a virus inside a computer hard drive; they eat away slowly in my subconscious mind until they bore a hole into my consciousness. Once the memories reach my conscious mind, I am overtaken with grief until I can again place them in quarantine in my subconscious mind once again.

It does me no good whatsoever to place these traumatic memories aside, for soon enough they will resurface and the pain will be experienced all over again. Ignoring them is temporary. Purposely digging them up to try to deal with them so that they will not cause further damage is futile. They are the source of pain within themselves. There is no escape unless they are erased. They will define me for as long as they exist.

To be free, the slate must be wiped clean. I should not be marred by the pain any longer. Pain should help one to learn and grow. My pain is not this kind of pain at all. I have been made worse by my trauma; in some ways I have become crippled by it.

I would be far better off had I not experienced these traumatic events in my life. These are things the mind was never intended to process. How can anyone be better by the death of her own child? The sudden death of a mother?

How can I be a better person after having gone through the sudden death of the love of my life? The death of what I will always consider to be the most precious friendship by betrayal, wrongful accusations and misunderstandings? The death of beloved pet cats, who were as close to my heart as my own children?

My heart will forever grieve for these precious, precious ones I have loved during my lifetime. How am I going to move forward and find happiness without them?

To whom will I turn when I need motherly advice when my mother’s voice lies silent in the grave?

In whose arms will I sleep tonight? My true love and my best friend in the whole world have both flown away.

Who can I call on the phone and tell my troubles to and share my joys with? My best friend refuses to have anything to do with me anymore.

What can I do to be a better mother to my remaining son? His brother is gone, and I don’t think I know how to be a mother. The opportunity to play the role was taken from me after only 6 ½ years.

I won’t be coming home to my beloved cat anymore. That home is no longer mine and my cat was most likely destroyed because I could not afford to take him with me when I had to leave.

I will soon have another home and another cat, whom I will name Oscar after his predecessor. I feel cheated that I had to give the original Oscar up before his days were over. In this way I intend to attempt to regain something that was lost.

I am making new friends, but will I ever feel the same connection with them as I did with Spencer?  Will I ever believe any man when they say, ‘I love you’? Will I forever worry what might happen to the love in my life if I find another someday?

So, I will build my new life with the following people in mind:

My son, Jesse Lee Koenig, Jr.

My mother, Patricia Anne Morgan

Michael Shane Towns

Razor

Oscar

Spencer Lee Allen.

Not one of you shall ever be forgotten, and therefore my pain shall always remain a part of me, even though I must, for my sanity's sake, keep my memories of you all in quarantine. Otherwise, happiness itself shall forever elude me.