Erin’s Legacy

In the aftermath of what was basically the destruction of my life – when I lost Erin, whom I’d made into my entire world, right or wrong – I’ve done a lot of thinking about what comes next. There was a long time where I just couldn’t or wouldn’t envision what that might be. I had essentially given up but was still operating on auto-pilot, just moving forward because that’s what I’ve always done when faced with hardship. I put on a brave face and diverted all my energy to convincing myself and everyone else that I was just fine. This time was different, though, because it wasn’t just about getting past something… it was also about figuring out what came next and trying to find a way to deal with what had happened.

Whether you believe it’s deserved or not, I have a lot of guilt over what happened. It’s actually quite overwhelming. In the face of my unimaginable failure, I just can’t envision a world where I will ever be able to forgive myself. Carrying such guilt and shame, how could I possibly live a valuable and productive life? How could I avoid falling into a downward spiral of self-hate and self-fulfilling prophecies of failure and depression? I was very close to giving in. There was the quick path option; choosing not to waste anyone’s time and just ending my life before I cause any more pain. But, after feeling the pain and emotional turmoil and unanswered questions of Erin’s decision to do that, I couldn’t possibly allow myself to inflict any such pain on someone else. I know that nobody loves me or would miss me as much as I do Erin, and sometimes there’s a little voice in the back of mind that tells me that everyone would understand my decision because of what happened to Erin… but there are people who love and care for me and I will never subject anyone to even a fraction of this. So that’s not an option. If that’s the case, then the slow degradation into apathy and self-pity – in other words, giving up – isn’t really an option, either, because it’s essentially the same thing but stretched out over a longer period of time.

So, here we go… I’m going to live a life. What is it going to be? How do I keep my guilt and self-hate from making me even worse and less valuable than I already am? Well, I believe the best way to do that is to look toward the source of my guilt in the first place. Erin. The best person I’ve ever known. The most loving, insightful, understanding and just purely GOOD person… someone who had this amazingly large and open heart, who reached out with her emotions and her empathy to everyone she could… who eventually got beaten down and destroyed because her gentle and soft nature just couldn’t cope with the hard and painful reality of this world and us hardened and imperfect people within it. That tremendous source of love and joy, the loss of which I feel largely complicit in bringing about, can serve as a sort of guiding purpose. I can dedicate my life to trying to make up, in any small way that I can manage, for that loss. Simultaneously, there will be the added benefit of not living an empty, shameful life of resignation and defeatism.

For a long time, I’ve shut myself off from the world, keeping my inner self guarded and thus cutting myself off from the love the world has to offer and refusing to provide my own love. Even Erin, to whom I’d opened up more than anyone one before, couldn’t quite get all the way through… some of my walls stood firm even against her. So, for me, the idea of trying to carry on her legacy of love and caring is very daunting; I just don’t feel up to it. However, I have to try. I can’t change who I am – at least not all at once – but I can change what I do and how I live my life. So why not do the biggest, most drastic thing I can think of? Sort of a jump start or a shock therapy treatment for my emotional side. That’s how I came to the decision to volunteer in Africa.

I can put off the daunting task of choosing a new life, of taking steps and making decisions for which I just don’t feel ready. Here’s a few years where I can just DO good, without necessarily having to BE good. I can make an impact, put some love and care into the world for people who really need it, all while not having to make any permanent decisions about my life and what comes next. In some ways, I’m running away from those decisions, but I feel that it’s better not to make them when I don’t feel ready. In the meantime, at least my life is valuable and I’m doing something with my energy and time that’s worthwhile. I feel somewhat uncomfortable when people tell me how great what I’m doing is, mostly because of the motivation. It’s like people congratulating me on running a great 100-yard dash time, when the whole time I was being chased by a lion and had no choice but to run faster than I ever thought I could. There’s a need to do this, not a want, which to me makes a difference. I’m fighting for my sanity and for my “spiritual” – for lack of a better word – well-being. I just need to do something to carry on Erin’s legacy. Maybe I’ll never be able to forgive myself for my part in the world’s loss of her, but I can work little by little to try to make my life some small fraction as worthy and uplifting as hers was.