Closure
Tags: Assault, Personal Growth, College, Forgiveness, Closure

I set up my first consultation with my new therapist to discuss my recent identification of assault and my worsening mental state. She was sweet and understanding and asked me what I wanted to get out of counseling. I told her at that moment I wanted to find closure.

And that’s when it all started.

She asked me “What does closure look like to you?”

….. What does closure look like to me? Isn’t closure the same for everyone? I thought. The nicely wrapped bow that ties all your problems together so that you can move on….. right?

Without even taking a moment to pause and think I replied

“An apology……I want an apology from them”

That one question really propelled me into my journey of closure. Often thinking back to that moment when she had asked it.

What was it about that question that bothered me so much?

It kept me up most nights with the words replaying in my head over and over again.

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One sleepless night I decided to do something different. I thought about what it would be like if they really did apologize to me. Would something as simple as an apology really be all that I needed to move on?

I closed my eyes while lying down and imagined Dizzy and Shell side by side facing me. It felt weird to be thinking of them all over again after so long but I still continued. I imagined them both looking directly at me in the eyes and saying the words “I’m sorry”……. and then…..

nothing….

I opened my eyes and thought about how stupid I felt. I replayed the made-up scenario in my head countless times. I changed their tone, who was saying it, every minute factor about it. Of course, it didn’t work, I told myself that it’s my imagination so it obviously didn't work because I knew it’s wasn’t a meaningful apology.

Yet, something about it all and the thought of them apologizing made me realize that no matter how many times I replied it in my head nothing would change. I wondered to myself that if this had been played out in real life would I really be satisfied? Was all that was holding me back really lying in-between those two words?

After that night and many more sleepless ones, I was left feeling no different.

During my next meeting with my therapist, she had recommended that I start journaling. She said it would help organize my thoughts and to help formulate an idea of what I was feeling. I told her that I was no good at writing to which she replied

“Who else is going to read it but you?”

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I made my way to Walmart where I stared blankly in the stationary aisle, for what felt like an eternity, at bedazzled journals with the words “#Goals” on them and marble printed notebooks. I picked up about 7 different ones thinking which was better to pour my entire collapsing mental state on. Blue or pink?

I ended up walking out with a cheap .99 cent notebook and took a bus farther from campus so I wouldn’t run into anyone. I found a secluded enough area at a park. I sat there for a while without touching my notebook. I’ve been able to write essays on harder topics faster than this I thought to myself. There felt like a million thoughts running through my head at once — why couldn’t I find it in me to write at least ONE down?

I thought about what I was even doing at that moment. Sitting alone at a random park alone. I thought about why I was feeling so shitty at that moment.

Why was I feeling like this?

I’ve felt like this for the past few months and I didn’t even understand why.

Before I knew it, I felt a tear fall down my face and onto the paper below. I couldn’t even write a single word down before I decided to cry…

I had no idea why I was even crying. I told myself that my crying felt like I was mourning a dead grandma.

And then… it hit.

Through the tears that were now flowing down my face and drenching my notebook, I was able to identify my first feeling and stage of closure.

Greif.

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As I was thinking about why I was feeling so badly for the past few months I have recognized it as grief.

I started to write about where I felt this feeling of grief was coming from.

I wrote about my experience in college so far, how I used to be happy, hopeful, and excited about everything that was awaiting me. I was always surrounded by people and plans and things to look forward to but especially the time I was spending with Dizzy and Shell. We were practically inseparable as a trio . We went on outings and discovering the new challenges of college, growing up, and hardships together.

I wrote pages about my favorite memories and stories that involved all of us together until the notebook had become practically halfway filled. I sat there re-playing those memories over in my head, each time crying harder and harder. I felt this feeling intensify; this feeling of grief almost practically consumed me. I wondered how many good memories could end in such a heartbreaking way.

I thought about what had transpired over the last few months and years. Thinking back on all the times that things weren’t going well, the arguments we had in the apartment, and why they transpired. I knew deep down there were things I could have done better, and that they were not the only ones at fault.

I thought about the assault I felt so betrayed. I tried so hard to push out the thoughts and feelings from the assault that I ended up not knowing how to be around Dizzy anymore and oftentimes coming off awkward and overly friendly to counteract my anxiety being around her again. Since Shell and Dizzy were close, I began to resent Shell just the same. I looked back on those thoughts, seeing now with a clearer view than I let emotions that I couldn’t identify or see start to control me and my resentment consumed me to the point where I couldn’t recognize even myself anymore.

I wrote all this down in my journal, filling even more pages with equal words and tears. After writing down everything I had felt and was feeling I put my pen down and took a long breath. I thought over my sense of grief. The pain I had felt seemed to lighten. Realizing this I felt like I was getting closer to what I was striving towards.

At this point, it was getting dark and I caught a bus to head back home.

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It was on that bus ride home that I found myself staring at my notebook. It felt heavy and probably not because half of its weight was probably in the wet paper but emotionally heavy. I had just unloaded months’ worth of emotional baggage onto it, it practically felt as heavy as a history textbook I had the semester before.

That’s when something struck a chord in me. History…the past. I flipped through my pages of memories and past events I had written in my journal. The memories I had written about, the times I had, and even the feelings I experienced. They were all in the past. I felt like I had just found a part of myself again as I realized part of me was still living in the memories and times that had passed.

I wasn’t moving forward because part of me wasn’t able to let go.

I got home and a few days passed by. I carried around my notebook in case I felt like I needed to write something down again. But for a while, I continued about my day, while in the back of my head thoughts were swirling about my past. I wanted to know how I could let myself move on from it.

It wasn’t until one morning I was sitting in my room working when I looked up at the pinboard above my desk. It was filled with pictures, tickets, and postcards from the past 3 years at college that I’d collected. Among the cluster of memorabilia, I found that I had left up photos and postcards given to me by Dizzy and Shell that I never took down.

I started to laugh uncontrollably.

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I found it ironic that my small cheap pinboard would be so symbolic and significant in my process of finding closure. I took down the postcards/photos and placed them on my desk. I realized that day what I needed to move forward and pulled out my notebook. I re-read my pages filled with my memories, smiling, and crying at the same time. I knew that to move on from the past I needed to look back on it one last final time. I wanted to appreciate the good memories and learn from the mistakes I had made and ignored. I wanted to let go of my past in all forms and keep them as nothing more than memories. I think at times we look back and use previous experiences as excuses and targets of blame for why things are and why things will happen. I had blamed so much of my pain and unhappiness now on Dizzy and Shell even long after moving out. I held onto that pain and anger and looking back on those pages of memories it was because without those feelings… I would have nothing left of the two of them. Even if what I had was hurting me and hurt them I had refused to let it go for so long and let it cause more and more damage.

But today that was over.

I finished reading back on my memories and turned to a new clean page with a pen in hand. I wrote up at the top of the page

“The Next Steps”

and I began to write. I wrote an apology note to both Dizzy and Shell. I knew at the time of writing it an apology for what I had done was maybe overdue, but I wasn’t sure of when apologies expire. I wrote them both not about why or for what reason I said or did things. Instead, I wrote about what they both have done for me. I wrote about the things I loved most about each of them. The letters weren’t to be sent out but kind of like when you write an email and delete it, writing it just for the sake of letting it out.

For Dizzy I wrote an additional acceptance letter. I had been struggling a lot with coping with the assault. I didn’t want it to control me or who I wanted to become and instead of holding anger and hostility towards them I decided what was the best way to write an acceptance letter. I knew I didn’t deserve to have gone through the assault and that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know if Dizzy knew or even remembered the assault, but I wrote about what it made me feel and how I wouldn’t let the experience hold me back from living my life.

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And that was a major part of finding closure. Letting myself be unapologetic in who I am and want to be. I want to be able to listen to the songs that once tied Dizzy, Shell, and me together. I wanted to revisit the places we had gone with new people to make new memories. I wanted to think back on the relationship and look back on it with fondness and acceptance instead of letting it fuel a wave of anger inside me.

The closure didn’t happen overnight, and it took many tears, self-reflection moments, and tough conversations to breakthrough. Even now I’m still working on finding acceptance, learning from mistakes of mine and others, and carrying on. I have since stopped living in my past and have looked forward to the future. This blog post I felt was like a summary/ homage to my experiences with grief, loss, pain, closure, and moving on. I unblocked both Dizzy and Shell. I’ve never been a huge fan of the motto “If it’s meant to be” but in this case, I like to believe that if we were truly meant to stay in touch we will land in each other’s path once again. And if not, then that’s okay too because I will always have a place in my heart for them both regardless.

If I leave anything for anyone to remember about closure it’s that closure is like mourning. The person you often miss does not exist anymore, you miss a version of a person that does not roam this earth any longer. Instead of thinking about how to get that old person back or replaying those old memories 20 million times, appreciate the fact you got to meet that person. Out of all the people in the world, you happened to know this version of someone, and you are capable of that love and affirmation in the first place, now you can find that same feeling in someone else. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but one day- one day you will.