Frozen

I know, I’m slow.  Everyone…literally EVERYONE has seen this movie long ago.  I finally got to see it.  My first movie in a long time because I don’t like going alone and I haven’t had anyone to go with.  Now that my brother and his wife are across the street and my aunt is next door, that has changed.  So we all piled into Dorothy’s car and went to the dollar matinee (where tickets are $1.50…go figure; still way cheap) at 6:30 p.m. the other night.
 
I didn’t really have high expectations.  It’s a kids movie, after all.  I thought it would be cute and kind of adorable (hopefully), a light, fluffy fare, a nice break from unpacking.  And it was…on one level.
 
On another level, there were deep messages.  Messages that spoke to my icy heart.
 
I’ve been frozen.  It spoke to me in painful ways. 
 
Don’t feel.  Don’t let them see.  Hide.  Stay isolated with the gates closed.  Because you’re messed up and just you being you will damage or destroy those you care about.  You’re a monster.  You have to keep everything frozen inside of you so everyone and everything outside of you will be spared from the winter you create inadvertently, just by being in the world.  You must conceal yourself!  You must stay in control!
 
Story of my life.
 
Don’t tell.  No one will believe you anyway.  They’ll blame you.  You’re defiled.  If they see you, they will despise you and reject you and run away in horror.  Be invisible.  Keep it all inside.  If you tell, you will destroy the family.  Your mother will commit suicide.  It will all be your fault.  You’re a monster.  If you weren’t such a monster, this wouldn’t have happened to you.  You’re just getting what you deserve.  Don’t feel.  You don’t matter.  Nothing matters.  Shut it off.  Close the door.  Push it down. Swallow it.  Keep the secret.  You should be ashamed…of who you are!
 
You’re different.  And you’re different in a way that isn’t suitable.  Strange.  Disgusting.  Weird.  You’re broken inside.  Better to stay out of sight than to be exposed for the fractured, freaky person you are.  Wear a mask (or gloves), isolate, insulate, close yourself away.  Pretend you are something other than what you are.  Because what you are is not acceptable.
 
The only answer?  The only key to freedom and “summer?”  Love. 
 
There is symbolism in the act of the one sister dying for the sister she loved.  Instead of saving herself, she saved her sister, though it meant she would be frozen solid and die.  In doing this, she saved the sister who was frozen in her heart and soul.  Who was trapped in winter.  And the symbolism continues…she thaws, basically being resurrected after sacrificing herself.  In making this supreme sacrifice, she freed her sister to be able to choose and have life.  Release always takes an act of sacrificial love.
 
What act of unconditional, sacrificial love will someone commit that will allow the thawing of my frozen, broken heart?
 
My brother bought a house across the street from the house he and his wife own.  They had attempted to buy the house before, looking for some investment property they could rent out to generate some income. The location would make it easy for them to manage.  But when they approached the owner, the asking price was too high.  When I lost my job, they approached him again.  He had purchased the house for his son to live in while he attended college and the son had graduated and since moved on.  This time he was very reasonable.  So they bought it…yes, as an investment for them that will, eventually bring them income.  But they bought it so I wouldn’t be homeless.  They bought it for me.
 
Am I thawing?  Hard to say.  But I do feel strange inside.  I’m out of sorts.  Confused.  Disoriented.  Some of that is likely due to the journey I’ve been on.  Losing my job.  Having to sell my dream home.  The closing being delayed again and again.  The debt hanging over my head.   Having the miniscule amount of unemployment I’m eligible to receive challenged by my ex-employer (even though they fired me for something I didn’t do!).  Moving to a new state.  A smaller, older, darker house (but so grateful for not having to find a piece of concrete under a bridge for shelter).  Living out of boxes while termite treatments are applied and furnaces are installed and windows are repaired, delaying putting things in place.  Going from total isolation to having my brother and sister-in-law across the street and my aunt next door.  I am lost and disconnected.  I don’t know who I am or what to do.  Even going to the grocery store is a confusing and stressful experience because I can’t think and can’t find what I’m looking for.   Can’t find what I’m looking for in my “new” house either.  Even if I’ve put it away somewhere, I can’t remember where things “go” just yet.  I feel mentally, physically and emotionally shut down.  Numb.  Frozen. 
 
But there’s a little nagging voice in the back of my mind that is whispering.  “You’re not alone anymore.”  “They did this because they love you…you’ve never been loved before…this is what love looks like.”
 
I’m still fighting depression, the eating disorder, self-hate, feelings of worthlessness, fear (make that terror) and hopelessness.  But am I thawing?  Is that a slightly less solid block of ice over my heart?  And did I just hear a tiny droplet of water hit the icy snow?
 
Too early to tell if spring is coming.  But the voice that is whispering quietly in my mind is telling me change is in the air.  And that whisper is a little bit warm.
 
 

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