Thursday, September 6, 2007

Stolen Soul

It wasn’t very special.

At least not on the surface.

Just a plain manila folder.

But inside that boring old folder were scraps of paper.

On those scraps of paper – every poem, story, deep thought and dark secret my teenage life spurred from 15 to 19.

Even throughout the most turbulent times in my life like when I was living out of my car, that folder stayed with me.

It was my best friend. The only thing that ever understood me. The only thing that knew all about me. The only thing I could tell everything to and it would stay by my side. Without judging, without laughing. It gave no response at all. Just stayed with me.

It held the story I wrote about my brother dying – a story I’ve yet to re-write because I just don’t want to live through it again.

It held poems that to this day I still consider ‘good’ – but can only remember portions of.

It held lots of poems that would probably embarrass me now, but told the story of my life none-the-less.

It held a letter to a baby I never met.

It held deep, twisted reflections of the depression I suffered many of those years.

It held ME.

And it was always with me.

Until one day, I noticed it was gone.

I had been staying at The Man’s trailer – split-shift babysitting with Scari while he worked. That had to be the last place I had it. Yes! I had let The Man read my story about Tommy. I know that’s where I left it.

It’s probably obvious where that folder went. They probably read all my scraps while laughing, teasing, joking and judging. Yes, probably.

It’s not so much the fact that I lost everything I’d ever written. That hurt. I can’t lie – even for the sake of my pride – it hurt. But the part that hurt the most is that I didn’t write again for years. The one inanimate object I’d chosen to be my eternal friend had left me. I couldn’t even trust a fucking folder. So instead, I kept my feelings inside me. Something I’d been taught long ago – with the exception of using writing as an escape. (My mother is an excellent writer.) But I no longer had that escape. Those thoughts, feelings, reflections – all stayed in my heart.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that folder lately. A LOT. I’ve been wishing it would magically show up and my undeserved writer’s block would be dissolved. Wishing I’d have a reason to believe that I could pour my heart onto paper and allow only those I wish to see it.

But that won’t happen. I’m sure it is destroyed. I’m sure it was fun for them.

I hope someday karma repays them. Shows them what it feels like to have your head and your heart ripped open for all to see – for all to judge – for all to laugh at. I hope then they will understand what their actions meant.


Worker Mommy said...

I'm so sorry, A. That's horrible. I can only imagine how much of a violation that feels like.

Karma WILL get him/her!

What a powerful, well written post!

hello insomnia said...

That's a terrible loss, Amy. I hope you can continue to write the way you do now, regardless of what those haters did.

I appreciate your sharing this.

Brillig said...

Oh my gosh, Amy. This post ripped my heart out. I would just want to die. What an awful, awful thing--and I totally get having an inanimate object become a best friend. I'm so sorry. I wish it would miraculously show up at some point. I wish it would reappear, containing everything you lost. I wish I could read through it and tell you how amazingly well you write, and share your joy and your pain over the things you've gone through in your life.

Oh, it's just agonizing.

Carla said...

I so get what you are saying and feeling your loss. So sorry.

shauna loves chocolate said...

I'm so sorry, Amy. That is totally devastating. I wish I could give you a hug.

MommasWorld said...

I am sorry you lost your old folder.

I wonder if you still had it would you have never come here to blog with us?

You have a brand new shiney folder :-) Right here! Consider it you old folder with a turbo upgrade.

I am part of your folder and I like ya friend.

Jackal said...

How devastating for you. I know I would feel devastasted if I lost any of my work and worse at the hands of unsensitive others.

Don't give up hope and don't give up writing. Sure the folder contained much of your essence but you are still you and still have a voice to share.

Kristina said...

She'll get what's coming to her. And man oh man, it'll be A LOT.

I have a little box. T knocked it over one day and started thinking things were garbage. I nearly had a heart attack seeing a few of my things in the top of the trash.

Kelly said...

That is so sad. I hope that's not what happened to it because that would be, well, pretty shitty.

Becki said...

I really don't think "violation" is too strong a word to use about this. It might not be strong enough. I am so sorry.

Whiskeymarie said...

I will be offering a sacrifice to the karma gods in your honor.
Lately karma seems to like me, so I'll put a good word in for you.

She and her people are gross and evil, by the way. Karma won't just bite her in the ass, it's going to drop kick it long at some point.

Jodi said...

OH man, that is really sucky. I am sorry. Your pain is literally palatable. i am sorry for your loss. And, well, I hate who ever stole your folder...

exskindiver said...

i feel for you.
it is a complete violation if it were taken.
my hope is that is was just misplaced--even if it were never to be found again--but not violated.
i am sorry.

Canadian flake said...

The saddest part about something like this is that so often those that violate us, aren't punished...because they are too heartless to care...or have regrets..

Somehow doesn't seem fair..

Hope you find your voice again someday.

Butrfly4404 said...

Thank you all for your wonderful comments.

Mommasworld - In a way, yes, blogging has given me a new voice. I adore my blog and all the friends it has helped me make - it is at the very least an outlet for some of my emotions. Still, there are some times I just want to "get it out" and the internet is not the place for it (We have our own special breed of anonymous haters here). Sometimes it gets to the point where I scribble out an indecipherable letter so I can get the anger out…then burn it or something. There was just something about being able to look back on the things I’d written – clouded by darkness – and knowing how far I’d come from it. I guess holding on to the feeling in my hands rather than my heart.

And chesca – how like you to offer such an ideal situation. I really hope that is what happened, too. :D

I have comments for the rest of you, too – but work time is limited (shhhh!) today, so just know that I am thankful that such wonderful people “have my back.”

New post tomorrow – but that’s no promise. (You know me! Anytime I promise something, Universe does what it can to break it! Or, I get lazy. Whatever.)

Life As I Know It said...

Oh that was awful to read. Writing is so personal it is an attachment of you. Part of you. To have that destroyed must have been awful...don't even have words for you.
Keep blogging...!

Cherann said...

I'm sorry :-( . I used to keep a journal where I would write that kind of stuff. I stopped though because I always worried about what would happen if someone read it.