Amnesia

The first trimester is over. Reams and reams of paper used for printing readings, assignments and essays. Books upon books read. Whew. What a blur.

So many people from back home called, e-mailed, and instant messaged me over the term to encourage me. I'm sure I'll miss someone, but thanks Adeana, Amanda, Angie, Ann, Anne, Brandon T., Brian M., Brian VM, Chris, Chuck, Darrell W., David B., Deneè, Gary, Howard, Hunter, Johnny, Jon M., Kelly, Kevin, Roger, Steve, Terry, and Tim. I feel like me being at MHGS has been as much of a fulfillment of your dreams as mine. Thanks for your encouragement for me to hang in there.

And, so many new friends out here have encouraged me to live from my story. Not to try and be someone else. But to celebrate my neuroses and lean into my oddities. To mourn the tragedies and cruelties. Thanks to Scott and Scott, Jason, Philip, Julie and Julie, Rick, Grant, Anita, Claire, Lisa, Eron, Shannon, Paul, and David. And, especially Bruce who I traveled back from classes with and we shared stories of joy and pain. Thanks!

Most of all, thanks to Jean, Sam and Alina for making me study and for making me play. And for loving me through the demands of the trimester. You have each loved me as I wrestled through the deconstructive readings and classes that have peeled layer after layer off my onion all the way down to the pain that was hidden underneath. You are the greatest!

And, now that it is rest time from studying, I still have important work to do. Over the last half of the term I have started to remember little things. Very painfully tragic events. Some brought on from readings, others from just being forced to sit in one place. Most of my life I haven't remembered. I have kept moving and it has prevented me from recalling. I had developed amnesia about nearly every memory.

Over break I have blocked out time to look at photographs in order to recall cruelty, abandonment, seduction, human sacrifice, and repeated abuse. The recall of these memories aren't so that I can continue to sit in the despair of the past. It is so that the past can be reauthored, as Dr. Allender says. Reauthored for the future's hope. Last Thursday after counseling I went for a walk in the woods. I asked God to begin to help me remember some events. He began to. The events being recalled were so hurtful that they were overwhelming. God was gracious enough to turn the memories back off for the time being. I know those memories are just the tip of the iceberg for what is deep below the surface of the dark waters.

I am very pleased with the relationship I have developed with my therapist here. A therapist who is a graduate of MHGS. A therapist who understands the deconstruction process of the school. And, most of all, one who desires to help me remember so that those repeated tragedies can be redeemed for good.