Friday night, my entire office and their families went to a Reading Phillies game. One of the really nice things about my job is that management hosts a lot of social events throughout the year to keep good relationships going, something that I doubt larger companies emphasize. It was a really fun night. I got to hang out with some great co-workers, play with their kids, and relax. But ...
I'm not a baseball person at all. A long ago ex from the worst relationship of my life loved baseball, was obsessed with it, and the hours of baseball I sat through with him made me like it even less.
A has started watching it recently, and even though I know it's not the same at all, that he asks me to watch with him because he genuinely enjoys it and wants to spend time with me, I still get those old gut reactions.
That I'm being punished for something, like a little kid.
That I will have to sit there for hours in silence because I don't have the backbone to stand up for myself and leave.
That I'm still young and foolish and broken.
I always have to talk myself through it, to realize that this is not the same, it's not a punishment from a cruel person, that A is not him, that baseball is that - just baseball. It's been three years since I got out, and yet the past still has the capacity to scare me to the extent of immobility. A has been amazing at helping get me rid of the ghosts from three years ago, and I'm immensely thankful for that.
I think it's funny how those little triggers can bring out the worst times of your life. Chipping away at them is one of the hardest things to do. It would be far easier to hide and ignore a situation when that trigger feeling starts crawling up your spine. Making yourself face them, that's another thing altogether.
Sometimes the small courages mean the most.
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