Humankind

I haven’t written for a while, as you can see. The truth is, I didn’t know quite where to go from here. Ericha’s death was such a huge happening for me that I find it difficult, after recounting this event, to move on steadily in my writings.

I was explaining this very dilemma to my boyfriend the other night. I explained to him that out of everything that’s happened to me, Ericha’s murder had the biggest effect on me emotionally. My boyfriend seemed stunned by this. “But so many things have happened to you. This is the biggest for you?” he asked.

I began to think about my boyfriend’s point and why out of everything on my timeline, before and after Ericha’s death, this event stands out in my mind as the reigning negative memory of mine. I suppose it wasn’t just the event in itself that made such an impact on me. Albeit the circumstances surrounding Ericha’s death were horrendous enough to make anyone deeply pained. But for me – this event was made so much worse by everything preceding it. I had already experienced so much prior to Ericha’s death. Before Ericha died – I was desperately holding on to the belief that there was still good in the world, that not everyone was inherently evil. I clung to the tiny bit of feeling left that there are people out there that won’t hurt you and might even love you. The years of neglect, abuse and a volatile living environment had slowly but steadily washed away my faith in humankind. I didn’t grow up with Ericha, I wasn’t a blood relative – yet her death was the final blow for me. It was the last straw. It was the final confirmation that the world, in fact, was not safe, loving or fair.

These beliefs, I now realize, will be one of the most difficult things for me to overcome during my treatment. I’ve protected myself for many years with these beliefs. After all, I thought, if I didn’t expect someone to truly love me and not hurt me, then I wouldn’t be so surprised when they hurt me. Sure – this philosophy may provide some comfort by creating the sense that I am protecting myself. But now I must ask myself if I really wish to live with these thoughts? Do I really want these negative feelings to affect my relationships with the few people I find that are, in fact, trust worthy? Do I want to inadvertently impart these beliefs onto my children?

The thought of doing that makes me sick. I want my children to be able to see the world in ways I never could. I want them to know that while it is necessary to protect one’s self, the world is also filled with stunningly good people. I want them to see the beauty of the world, to feel the protection their parents provide and within that protection, blossom.