I've made a mistake somewhere. Not a mistake in action, but a mistake in lack of action.
I chose to come here, to write out my thoughts and feelings, to explore what's happening to me while things are happening to my friend. There's a funny little voice in the back of my mind that likes to tell me I'm going to write a book about this someday. A book for the family and friends of someone who is going to prison, to help them prepare, to help them work through their feelings. I'm going to write the sort of book that I was unable to find. Maybe, maybe not, that's not the point. It's just a funny little voice.
This does seem to be helping. When I have a new thought, I can come and write it out. I've posted something every day since I started, but it may not always be so. There are just enough thoughts to fill everyday so far. In two months, there may not be. In three, there may be enough for several times a day. In five, it may turn into just when I can write to or visit him. I don't know. I don't really want to think that Monty might be out of sight and out of mind after September.
In any event, posting here is not the mistake. It helps, I really feel it does. Over the past week, though, I've been feeling very alone. I feel like I have no one to talk to. A face to face conversation is very different than even the fairest group of faceless blog followers (and I do appreciate all of you who take even a moment to share this journey with me). I don't know anyone who has walked this path before me. I don't know if my friends would understand now.
It's a mistake of my own making, of course. And I've talked to a few people a little bit here and there. I've considered talking to others but haven't done so. Part of it is that everything about this is so complicated, it's hard to discuss. It's hard to talk about even when I have the ability to backspace. I'm not sure I could get anything even remotely coherent in speech. Another part is that I don't cry much, and if I do, I avoid doing so in front of others. But if I'm speaking, I'll be emotional, and I will cry. I've done so while typing just because it's impossible to not feel the weight of this as I'm writing about it. It's monumental that I'm even admitting to that. Thankfully, I've also recently had a cold that's in the lingering cough stage, so I can easily blame my phlegm. (It's ok to laugh or "eww," as you like.)
Admittedly, that's a silly reason to not talk to someone if I need to, but it is what it is.
It's all about support. I think I'm struggling to support Monty, because the situation has brought up so many conflicting feelings within me. I think that means I need support from somewhere too. I don't want to expect that from Monty, he has enough to worry about and I don't know if it would really be beneficial to either of us if we are who each of us turn to. My side of things is very different than his as it is. I need something else, something outside. That's why I came here, even if it's proving to not quite be enough.
Eventually, I'm going to break, and I'm going to need someone.
On that note, and not as a substitute for the conversation I'm eventually going to need more than I need it now, if you, gentle readers, feel compelled to comment, feel free to do so (I won't be offended if it's anonymous). If I don't like what you have to say, I don't have to publish it. Ha! (I'm kidding there, kind of.)
This came about rather suddenly, really. It was earlier last week, when I was thinking about going to the sentencing in September and the going away party (which will be about the same time). I found myself wishing there was someone who would come with me, which made me realize it'd be nice to have a confidant too.
I know several of you are probably wondering why I don't just ask someone, even given my aforementioned reasons. Another is that I don't feel it's entirely right to burden someone else with helping me with my issues. Everyone I know has many things on their respective plates. Everyone has their own things to deal with. It wouldn't be right to trouble them with me.
It's a little like something that was said during my CIA interview a couple years ago. They were talking about if we got a job that required a cover. They said we would have to be very careful about who we told, because those people would have to keep our secret and our cover too. They said that not everyone would be up for it and told stories of more than a few agents who broke cover with someone they cared about, and that someone experienced much agony over wishing they were not part of the secret. It would be wrong of us to force that burden on them, to make that decision for them. I don't know if any of my friends would be willing to share that burden with me, and it would be wrong of me to choose for them and find I was wrong in my choice.