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Spiritual Triumphs In Disguise
-by The Triple Goddess
At the age of fifteen, I was raped by a male friend of mine. It was date rape. Though, the situation was a bit complicated. I went over his house to just hangout with him and his cousin. Eventually, we got bored just sitting around watching television and my friend got out some "pot" and rolled a few joints. I never smoked marijuana before and I was somewhat hesitant, but my curiosity pushed me on. Unfortunately, I forgot all about the medication I had been taking for lyme disease. Hence, the drugs did not mix well. My stomach was turning, so I went to lay down for a few minutes. That was when my friend sent his cousin away and took advantage of my weakened state. To make matters worse, when I got home my mother started screaming at me for coming in so late and grounded me for awhile. I couldn't tell her what happened. I didn't want anyone to know I smoked pot. I figured that was a big part of why I was raped. I took a lot of the blame for it.
At age sixteen, a classmate and friend of mine died in a car crash. It happened on my sweet sixteen birthday. She was driving home when a drunk driver crashed into her car. The wreckage was complete. it was all over the newspapers. That was my first incident with losing someone. It was my first real meeting with the reality of death.
At age seventeen, another friend of mine died in a car accident. It happened early Easter morning. She and her boyfriend were driving down this dirt road. On both sides of the road was swamp land. It had been raining for a few days and the water had risen. They had obviously been driving fast and swerved into the swamp water. Somehow, her seatbelt got jammed and her boyfriend couldn't get it off of her. He ran to the nearest phone to get help, but it was too late. She had drowned. This was my second encounter with grieving and death.
At age eighteen, a few things happened in my life. I'll go in order. I got a job as a certified nursing assistant in the summer. Though the job was stressful on both mind and body, it was a way for me to channel some positive energy. I was able to comfort and care for the elderly. In return, I received some beautiful friendships and wisdom from my residents of the nursing home. But, death was not finished teaching me all about himself.
On the Fourth of July, that same summer, one of my closest friends died in yet another car accident. He and his friend were coming home from a party late at night. They both were under the influence. His friend was driving and took a sharp turn too fast. My friend, riding shotgun, wasn't wearing his seatbelt and flew out of his window as the car was turning over. The car landed on him and crushed him. I was crushed with grief. It seemed to be a pattern. Every year I lost a friend to some kind of horrible incident. This one, though, tore out my heart. Dave and I had a wonderful connection. I felt empty after losing him. Still, there was more to come.
A few months later, I was almost nineteen then, another good friend of mine died. He was killed in a drug-related fight. Some kids went over his house and ended up shooting him. Supposedly, they had only gone there to scare him into doing something they wanted, but the argument escalated and the shots were fired. At this point, I was so worn out from grief I couldn't muster much more than anger over his death. I was so very angry at the nonsense of it all. I was also angry at God. This time God didn't even give me time to recover from Dave's death before springing another on me and that, I knew, would take a long time to get over. I also felt guilty, because I couldn't get Dave out of my head long enough to concentrate on George. George was harmless. He was a druggie, but he was also a sweetie. He didn't deserve to get shot. He wasn't the violent sort.
Then a few months later, one of my favorite residents at the nursing home finally succumbed to throat cancer. It killed me to watch her go downhill so quickly. One day she was up and about, joking around with me. The next, she was so doped up on pain meds that she couldn't even talk. She was lucky enough not to have suffered long. She died within a week or two. I was able to say good-bye to her. This showed me another side of death. I grieved for her, yes, but it wasn't full of anger at the injustice of it all. She lived a long life and this time death wasn't the thief of lives I thought it to be, but an angel of mercy. This time my grieving was purely selfish. I would just miss Frannie but, this grief was quick to heal and I was and am still able to think only lovely thoughts of her.
At the age of nineteen, my grandfather died. He was a wonderful man who had loved his grandchildren outrageously. He was a great loss to me, but like Frannie his death was a merciful one. He too had cancer and had lived a long, full life. His death was sad, but not heart-wrenching. I would always have the memories of him being a wonderful man. Again, this time I was not filled with anger.
Now, at the age of twenty-two, I have realized that it was a demonstration of a great spiritual truth. Since, I was little I had been a very spiritual person and always believed there is a reason for everything that happens. Even if the reason isn't obvious. For some reason, I had to learn how let go over my anger. For years, even before all the "tragedy" I had been consumed with repressed anger. I kept it inside till it was completely ruining my life. Upon, reflection I realized that I was allowed to be a little selfish. I was allowed to grieve. I was allowed to be angry about being raped. I was allowed to feel what I felt, but I learned that I was not meant to be consumed with it. I learned that death was not something to fear or hate. I learned that feelings were not a bad thing. In fact, feelings are what let us truly experience life and help us to deal with it. The trick is to accept what you are feeling and then let it go.
For a long time, I clutched those negative feelings to me. Always keeping them close to my heart. As a result, it was turning me into a very bitter, negative person. Instead of being struck by a bolt of enlightenment, I kept getting pieces of wisdom like mini static electrical shocks. Every so often something new would be given to me. They were healing shocks. They kept shocking me till I was ready to let the past go completely. I don't mean burying it and trying to forget about it. I mean, I accepted what happened. I accepted what I felt. Then, I no longer needed it. The negative energy dispersed. It was gone. I learned to accept, to feel, and to let go. That is why I call this my spiritual triumphs in disguise. I had thought it was the worst time in my life, when really it was a great spiritual realization. It taught me how to live.
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