A few months ago, a friend told me that I needed a healthy vice to distract me. That was the inspiration for the thoughts in this piece. If she is reading this, thank you.
I don’t like to share personal things publicly. I have always been an extremely private person. I have a few close friends that I share things with, and even they do not know everything. I choose to keep my life close to the vest and be emotional in private. I feel everything, but share my feelings about nothing. Crying in front of other people, including my friends, is not something I do. I hate to bring others down, and prefer to have a good time with my friends and save my emotions for the privacy of my apartment. That is why I have no idea why I am so drawn to write about this particular experience. It might be another form of closure, but it might also be my hearts way of trying to break down my walls. And, in my life the perfect way to break down walls would be through wrestling.
If you have read any of my previous posts, you know that I am incredibly passionate about professional wrestling. I have been watching it since I was very young, and have always had such great respect for the men and woman who live to entertain me. It has been one of the biggest pieces of the puzzle of my life, yet I do not have many people in my life who share my passion. There is my brother, and a few friends. Aside from my brother, however, I feel that while many people in my life enjoy watching wrestling with me, they do not have the same respect for it. To most of them it is merely another entertaining thing to watch on TV. To me it will always be so much more. Wrestling has always been there for me. It has always been my safe place. It has been a second home to me. It has always been that place I go when I want to escape the world. When things went wrong in my life, I turned to wrestling. It has helped me to forget and to heal. It is a connection that most people in my life do not understand, but wrestling has been there when people haven’t. It has been there when I couldn’t or wouldn’t allow people to be there for me. My deep connection to wrestling is a huge part of how and why my passion grew.
Yet, some of that passion has cooled in the last year or so, and by no fault of professional wrestling. I met someone. Someone who loved wrestling when he was younger, and still watched it as an adult. Even some of his friends still watched. No, he did not sit at home every Monday and Friday and wait for RAW or SmackDown, but he truly enjoyed it. And he liked that I enjoyed it. He was impressed by my knowledge about professional wrestling, instead of considering it silly because it was not a real sport. I can even recall a conversation where I, trying to not look like a complete dork, said I knew I was a little weird for liking wrestling so much, but that I was okay with being weird. I can remember him very clearly saying to me that I was not weird, at least not to him or his friends. Yes looking back, he was trying to impress me a little, but the comment was genuine. I had met someone who liked wrestling, who liked me, and who liked that I liked wrestling.
We bonded through wrestling (that and football) over the first few weeks of our time together. We would text during the shows or I would fill him in on Monday Night Raw because like and old man, he fell asleep before it was over. Eventually he started asking me to DVR the shows, so he could catch up when we hung out. One night, early on in our relationship he came over to visit, armed with vodka and old wrestling videos for us to watch on You Tube. The matches that were his favorites when he was a kid. We drank, sitting close to one another on the couch with my laptop, watched, and reminisced about our wrestling childhoods. It is a memory I will always cherish. When live football wasn’t on we would catch up on the shows I had saved on the DVR, or the most recent wrestling event. It meant so much to me to have that connection with someone else AND wrestling. It meant so much to me that someone appreciated my connection with wrestling.
I fell hard. I equally loved the guy and the connection he had with one of the biggest passions in my life. He may or may not agree, but wrestling became our thing. It was no longer just me and wrestling. For the first time, I shared my passion for wrestling with someone I cared about and wanted to have a relationship with. It was something we looked forward to doing together week after week. It was something we laughed about, bet each other silly things on, and unwound cuddled up on the couch after a long day together. Everything in my life felt like it fit together, and wrestling was a big piece of ‘our’ puzzle. I was in my glory. The comfort that I always felt from wrestling, I also felt from him. It was the home I had always wanted.
And then it was over. Although not as quickly as that. The end was drawn out for too long, because I did not want to let go and he did not know how. I was heartbroken, and wrestling could not help me. For the first time, the one thing I always turned to (aside from family/friends) to escape, hurt. The one thing that had always been there for me and helped me through so much in my life, that had always made me feel safe, now made me feel broken. I was lost. I could not give up something that meant so much to me, but wrestling just made me think of what I did not have. Wrestling felt wrong, because my life felt wrong. Wrestling could not comfort me, because in some way it also broke my heart.
Wrestling was my healthy vice.
It was what I turned to for comfort and it was gone. Wrestling was what I lost myself in, and I no longer had a place to turn to.
I did not even truly understand what had happened. It was not until a friend, months after my heartbreak, told me to find a healthy vice that I realized what I had lost. And it was then that I became determined to regain my trust in wrestling. The summer months helped with the healing process. The WWE was in my area for a few live events and I was able to attend. One of the events I attended alone, and it helped me to remember how much wrestling was a home to me. I never once felt out-of-place at this event, and it gave me that sense of comfort that I had been missing for many months. I was alone, but I was comfortable and most importantly happy. The next night, I went to the Money in the Bank Pay Per View in Boston. It has always been one of my favorite events, and my excitement gave me even more hope that I was on the mend. And I am. Those aforementioned events have proven that wrestling can still take me to that place. My safe place, where nothing else matters except for my special connection with wrestling and where my problems cease to exist. Even if only for a few hours.
I can not say that I am completely whole. I have picked up the pieces of my heart and I continue to put them back together. As I mend my heart I will continue to let my love and passion for wrestling grow into something new and different. I will start to intertwine wrestling into the puzzle that makes up my life again. I hope to start a new wrestling adventure, and maybe I will even begin to share those adventures again. Sooner than later all of the missing pieces will be placed together again to form a picture that is more beautiful than before. Even though my connection with wrestling has been altered because my life has been altered, and I may need a back up healthy vice to turn to at times, wrestling will always be a place I can call home.