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The Scrambler

I'm in the Orlando area this weekend. I've spent a delightful few days surrounded by and laughing with loved ones and am now soaking in a few hours completely to myself in my favorite coffee shop in Kissimmee.

Spending the afternoon in the town where I lived for the majority of my married life is a bittersweet feeling. So much has changed that I barely recognize the street corners. At the same time, no amount of real estate development can strip the landmarks etched into my memory of the life I lived here.

While stopped at a light in front of Old Town, I felt an unfamiliar twinge in my heart. I know that place well because for a few years it was the source of one of my few joys. In the darkest days of my marriage I would drive out to Old Town, buy some tickets, and ride the Scrambler. As I was thrown from side to side in the carriage, lights strobing around my eyes, I would laugh. No matter how crappy I felt inside, I could laugh sitting there.

So I would ride as much as possible.

It was here that I finally reached bottom about four years ago. I was alone at home on a Friday night, my mind churning with the misery of my marriage. I went to ride the Scrambler. I'll never forget the sheer desperation I felt as I rode my favorite ride. Over and over and over. The lights flashed. The carriage rocked. I let myself be thrown with every turn.

My life was scrambled and out of control. And I decided that if I ever decided to kill myself I would have to ride the Scrambler first.

Reaching the point that you even allow the thought of suicide to enter your mind is a scary moment, even if you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would never follow through with the process. I scared myself. I knew then and there that something HAD to change in my life. It did...in a very different manner that I ever anticipated.

It's funny to me now in that peculiar-not-haha way. I am finally at peace in my life...the peace I looked for for years. That storm is behind me and the pieces of myself I've discovered amaze and amuse me. Still, the sight of that ride made me realize just how my life and heart were ripped apart. That's a truth I have not really stopped to consider in the last few years.

I won't say it's been easy. I won't end this post with some hokey positive message. The truth here is that life sometimes sucks. For all of us. The scars life leaves in our hearts and minds will be around for a very long time. And it's all part of the process...the way it's supposed to be.
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Christy said…
Thank you for not ending with a hokey positive message. Reality seldom ends that way, and I like reading things that don't.
7:39 AM
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