OT: Three and three

I received a suggestion from Six of the Best -- during my recovery, to reflect on what were the three saddest times in my life, and what were the three happiest. Having accumulated a lot of years, this is not an easy feat. I mean, I've had lots of joy, a lot of despair, and a passel of the feelings in between. But to choose the three most pivotal of each extreme is harder than it sounds. Still, the exercise intrigues me, so I'm giving it a try.

I'll get the sad parts out of the way first. Far and away, the most crushing event of my life was the death of my brother. It was unexpected, devastating, and far-reaching. It changed me, hardened me, embittered me for a long time.

Second to that was my father's death. Although I saw that one coming, it was still very painful. I had the double whammy of dealing with loss, and having to deal with all the work necessary when a life ends. Fortunately I had support, but it was still all-consuming. And once all the work was done, then the tears came.

How to choose the third? Being a depressive, there have been many sad times. Which one impacted me the most? Watching my mother deteriorate from dementia? Being dumped? Losing friends? Betrayals, disappointments? I guess if I have to pick one, it would be the time of my life when my father's girlfriend (later his third wife) caused the deterioration and ultimate destruction of my relationship with my dad. Years later, as you all know, the situation was turned around, but I will never forget going through that pain, anger and helplessness. It was like being imprisoned for crimes I didn't commit, and banging on the bars, raging, crying, begging for someone to listen to me.

OK. Enough of that. Now onto the joys.

This will probably come as no surprise to any of you -- one of my top three happiest times was when I got my first spanking. After years and years of fantasizing, of wondering, of hiding and stuffing my feelings, and finally, worrying that the reality would pale in comparison to the fantasy, I broke free from my self-imposed chains and into a new part of my life, with joyous abandon. I will never forget how I felt that day.

Meeting John is in the top three as well. Eighteen years ago, this complex, bright, loving, funny, maddening and enigmatic man came into my life and into my heart. Play partners to begin with, then falling in love, experiencing so many incredible "firsts" with him. Through all the ups and downs, the tears and laughs, I know this man loves and accepts me. I do not take either of those two things lightly. And I adore him.

As with the sad times, choosing the third happy time is difficult. After giving it some careful thought, I'm opting for the time right after I published "Late Bloomer." What a rush that was; not just because I finally finished it and it came together so beautifully, but the feedback was so incredible. My words resonated with people. As someone who spent most of her life feeling invisible and like she mattered to no one, this was amazingly gratifying. Even three years later, I'm still getting messages from strangers, telling me what my book meant to them. In my own little way, I have mattered.

How about it, y'all? Anyone else want to try this exercise? Feel free to write it up on your own blog, if you'd like. Make sure you list the happy times last; that leaves you feeling buoyant.

And now, I am going to attempt doing a bit of a workout, first time in nearly three weeks. Nothing heart-pounding, but I need to get moving a bit. Wish me luck. If my face swells into a basketball, I guess that will be my sign that I did too much.

Oh, and don't forget, Love Our Lurkers Day(s) #9 this Wednesday and Thursday! For more on that, check out Hermione's post here.