Disassociation

I've had this blog for quite some time now. As you know, I tend to reread my old entries to see what was going on a year ago (or a few years ago). I realized tonight that I never go back and look at anything before 2014. In fact, part of me almost forgot that I had a blog before then.

Now occasionally I'll have to look something up to find out exactly when something happened (a repair, for example) but even when I do that, I feel like I'm looking at something now forbidden to me. It's as if the posts written by pre-2014 belong to someone else.

Clearly I did exist before then, but . . . did I? As I've written before, in some ways, I feel the same as I did before the hysterectomy, but in other ways, I really don't. This makes sense, of course. I AM different. Parts of my body were removed. You know, that's the part that drives me kind of crazy sometimes. Parts were removed, but not parts I saw. We get so fixated on the outside of our bodies that we forget about all the secrets on the inside.

Looking at posts before 2014 to me is as hard as going into the bedroom where my grandmother died. I pretend like that room doesn't exist because it's too hard for me to think about what happened in there. I guess this is part of the grieving process.