Three men

Three men, each with his own cross to bear, each on a different path, one for the world to see and one that God sees, but never a path that would cross with the other two men:

ONE is a musician. A soldier. An educated man. Has served more than two tours of duty in the last 5 years. Is a proud family man and is regarded as such. He is dying. His body is dying. He will likely not make it through the next series of treatment. No matter how ill, you see, this man is living through his death. His wife will stand proudly by him. He will be missed and his family and children will suffer his loss.

TWO is a musician. A trade worker directly affected with the recent economic downturn. He works diligently and respectfully to provide for his family. He nickels and dimes it through the day. He doesn't complain but voices that life is getting to be too much. He is suffering, his family was suffering, and then almost like being caught in the palm of God, he was willingly and supportingly reassured that death would be close if he didn't seek help now. NOW was his time, and he took it. He lived.

THREE is a soldier through and through, a genuine patriot. His body is not dying, but it is badly injured. His mind is worse. He no longer fears death, he beckons it, pleads for it. Two failed but almost complete attempts renders him a failure. He couldn't live well enough, and couldn't get dying right either. His young family that has held him high for so long, questions what good any of it would do anymore. Are they wasting their time? Can they stand to see him put on a brave face, just to get people off his back, but really to just allow enough distance for him to try and end it all again. Will they walk away?

More than anything else I want the cures. I want to heal these men and take away their pain, their fear. I want to banish these ailments and promise that they'll never return again. I want to hold their hands, and feel their pulse and ask them what was the one thing each life was worth living for. I want to hear each of them say that life IS worth living. I want to hear it, know it, feel it and believe it. I want to define it and bottle it.

I long to be the ever-trusting, overflowing cup of peace and redemption, but I'm not. I'm just not. I can't be the one who keeps checking for the pulse.

Things that I am enjoying

Two Dog was right. There has to be something good:

• Love having a full fridge, it somehow makes me feel... accomplished?, yes even just the sight of it
• Have graduated from soda to chocolate milk to try and be more healthy... it's a step... a baby step! It makes me happy! =-)
• Love the feeling and smells of summer starting to think of turning in and reemerging as fall
• Have been researching retreats - I could really get into this. Pick me up and plop me down somewhere in the middle of nowhere ... but preferably near a body of water...
• New fish in the fishy pond! And none have died yet... Hot dog!
• Have been faithfully reading every night before bed for at least a 1/2-hour
• Love the cold sheets after a long hot day
• Blessed and thankful to be still employed
• My zoom zoom car with new tires that make it that more easy to zoom around, hug the road, and shift into bliss

New favorite song: Closer to Love

She got the call today

One out of the gray

And when the smoke cleared

It took her breath away

She said she didn't believe

It could happen to me

I guess we're all one phone call

from our knees

We're gonna get there soon

If every building falls

And all the stars fade

We'll still be singing this song

The one they can't take away

I'm gonna get there soon

She's gonna be there too

Cryin' in her room

Prayin' Lord come through

We're gonna get there soon

Oh it's your life

Oh it's your way

Pull me out of the dark

Just to show me the way

Cryin out now

From so far away

You pull me closer to love

Closer to love

Meet me once again

Down off Lake Michigan

Where we could feel the storm blowin

Down with the wind

And don't apologize

For all the tears you've cried

You've been way too strong

now for all your life

I'm gonna get there soon

You're gonna be there too

Cryin' in your room

Prayin' Lord come through

We're gonna get there soon

Oh it's your life

Oh it's your way

Pull me out of the dark

Just to show me the way

Cryin out now

From so far away

You pull me closer to love

Closer to love

Cause you are all that I've waited for

All of my life

We're gonna get there

You are all that I've waited for

All of my life

You pull me closer to love

Closer to love

Pull me closer to love

You pull me closer to love

Closer to love

Pull me closer to love

Love of a different kind

I love the wind

the rain

together

the elements:

I'm made real by these

and the beauty within them that validates

my being, my breath

my every thought and wonder

the soul within the shell which longs to be worthy.

My stage

My life is a long story. I can't re-cap it. I can't sum it up. I can't quantify it or qualify it or justify it. I need to deal with me on my terms. I need to calculate my next move by my measurements, not your measurement of me, no matter how right or wrong you are. If I'm going down, I'm going to saddle up and hang the hell on. But by all means, I don't need a fucking audience.

No Fairy Tale Ending

They were high school sweethearts. Why is it that the nice girls end up with the assholes? Or is it that those are just the ones I notice, so those are the ones I take to heart? She was sweet, smart, timid, but had a fiery streak on a rare occasion. He was just an asshole. Blame it on a poor upbringing or not enough development in his neurotransmitters; which ever way you roll the dice, he was always just a little off. Maybe he was just dumb, but I can deal with dumb. But dumb and rude really push my limits.

They wed soon after high school, and gave it a good go. She finished college and he was employed with the local union. She became pregnant and together they welcomed a child into their world. Any outsiders peering in would assume that these two had overcome the odds and were starting a good life. But when the doctors told her that the pain she was feeling in her abdomen was actually ovarian cancer, and she turned to her husband for comfort and strength, he was gone. He was out. That wasn't what he bargained for.

I don't know where he ended up, but far, far out of reach. She kind of became a hermit of sorts to fight this fight the only way she knew how: alone. Surgery, chemotherapy, radiation and all the physical side effects of the disease, the treatment, being left by her husband, and being a single mom to provide for her child. She kept a low profile and didn't seek handouts, or attention, or retribution.

This went on for some time until by all medical indications, she had this thing beat. That was two years ago when she was given a clean bill of health. But you and I both know this is not the end of the story. The cancer returned and the husband did not. She died last week...She was 28.

I wonder if that bastard will show for her funeral. Why couldn't he have been the one to get cancer and die? Is that wrong? Am I just as big of an asshole as he is because I think these awful thoughts? I want some retaliation! I want him to suffer. And for all intents and purposes, I think that I am totally justified to hate him too. I promised God that if I could find the peace within to not hate him, I'd do it. But for now, if God loves him, so be it, and I hope it's tough love, but keep him the hell away from me.

It's amazing what:

pain will transform

jealousy will inspire

dreams will create

lies will build

suffering will uncover

time will numb

solidarity will weaken

people will ruin

music will cure

hindsight will feel

simplicity will produce

a soul will resist

a heart will believe

a touch will heal

faith will comfort

death will relieve

and silence will speak.

Chronically misunderstood:

Chronically misunderstood. Pathetic. Why even bother? Is this what life has come to? I know that what ever I say, what ever I don't say, however I respond or fail to respond will be pathetically distorted so far from the quiet, simple truth that there is no point to even speak up. Is it really worth all that effort when no is going to understand anyhow?

The days

There are enormous changes that are surfacing here. Just starting to take form and emerge. Some of these have been rooting for some time and are far more powerful than they first appear. Still others are just skimming the water while they plot the next calculated move. Each day as it passes will offer up the same familiarity:

"My dear child. You have worked hard and faithfully. You have sought honesty and compassion. You are not perfect, nor expected to be, but have never stopped working on your own soul to keep it in tune. You are now tired and weak and your diligence speaks volumes. Come this way my child and let me relieve your pain and give you rest."

You step forward in awe and anticipation and gratitude for even a moment's peace.

"I am sorry, my child. There has been a mistake. It is not your time. Please step aside."

Now you are faced with the choice: to step back into life under the heavy burdens and those to come, or do you forfeit all the ground you've gained and fold your hand?

Every day a new and beautifully real apparition appears and affirms your every need and every desire. Every day you believe the words that are spoken. Every day though will not be your day. Will you continue on, under the thickness of burdens, and believe every word, or will you throw your hand in and leave it all behind?

Sunday Spewings

I am utterly at a loss. There used to be a time when I could roll with the punches, ride things out, pick up the pieces - no longer.

Panic attacks are the most ridiculously retarded (sorry I know that's not the PC thing to say, but I'm just spewing here people!!!) thing EVER. I can no longer answer the phone. I will wait to see the caller ID (not that it makes ANY difference who is calling, because I won't answer) I'll let it go to voicemail, then check the message, then either text back or send an email. I cannot go grocery shopping without hyperventilating scared to death that I cannot pick out the right kind of bread because I cannot focus long enough to figure out which is which kind. They all blur together. I panic. Then I feel like people are watching me and though I'm not doing anything wrong, I instantly feel guilty. And guilt and panic are a really great twosome.

Some people keep adding layers upon layers of things to their lives. They need this gadget that will supposedly help them with that. And need this apparatus to make new communications possible which will help with this. But then you get so caught up in keeping up with each of these layers that there's not time or remembrances of what simple life originally was. Layer upon layer diluting every choice, every opinion, every feeling, thought, and dream. I've got to carve these layers back down to the core. I have fleeting memories of who I used to be. I need to get back there, and rebuild if necessary, or not... and just keep it simple.

A stranger in this world

It's happening again. It is the ODDEST thing. I wake up and don't have a clue where I am. I'm not the kind to get messed up and crash on some one's couch. I live in a house and I've lived here for quite a while. I'm no longer scared when I have these thoughts though, which is odd all in itself. Instead now it's "OMG it's happening again. Think backwards... where are you. WHERE ARE YOU?" Then I start checking off each place I've lived until I've rebuilt the past and am back in my own bed in my own house. CREEPY!

New topic: guilt, guilt trips, flaky people, sneaky people: Get out of my way and stay the EFF away from me. I don't do guilt. I don't do guilt trips, and I refuse to treat anyone that way, even the ones who do it to me. They should know better. How the heck are they going to know it's possible to live without giving everyone around them a guilt trip, if they don't have at least one person to live that and show them. I take the challenge. I might hate you, but I won't give you a guilt trip. Somewhere in there, that all makes perfect sense to me.

I promise you I can handle the truth. I know the truth hurts. I'm sitting shot gun on that ride. Don't flake on me. Do what you say you're going to do, or DON'T. I don't really care. But don't say one thing and then do the opposite and believe that life carries merrily along. It might for a bit, but you are quickly going to lose anyone who has ever cared a little bit for you. Same with sneaky people. Don't they get tired of sneaking? Tired of lying to cover the sneaking? Tired of keeping track of the lies they told to cover the lies to cover the sneaking? Man up you little fucker and look me in the eye.

Gather round it's story time

There once was a little old man. He was old, feeble, gentle, soft spoken, with rough leathered hands that had seen too many hard days. His wife has died and he is alone in their house, alone in their bed, alone in their world. His many long years have etched meticulous patterns into his life. It's not so much that everything needs to be done just-so, more that everything in this life should be given the attention it deserves, out of respect and honor, for that is what his life has been built upon.

Today he broke free of his routine and went to visit his wife. Pride in his pocket, love in his heart, steel in his bones, he trekked to the cemetery to visit her there. Today was going to be different for him. Since his wife had died, his world had all but stopped. He was heroic seeing her through until her final breath. He insisted that he would head the casket as it was carried out. He could bring himself to do everything, just not the last step which, to him, signified a final goodbye and acceptance. He was waiting until it was right in his heart, and then he would himself design and carve a stone to mark the final resting place of his beloved.

Today was the day that he would view this cemetery anew. He anticipated what it would be like to see that small plot of land and know that today he was ready to move forward. He was ready to measure it and begin the drawings for the headstone. It had taken him time to get here, to this point of admission, but it was the right time - his soul told him so. He had already purchased the adjacent plot so that when the time came, he could be buried next to his bride both eternally in heaven, and physically here on earth. He'd already decided that the headstone would be inscribed on the right with his wife's name, and the left side would remain untouched until the time came to bury him. This would be his final well thought out,outward sign of the love for his wife, for the world to see.

He now advances and closes the gap between himself and his wife. As he approaches he almost can not breathe. There is a binding in his chest that prevents him from inhaling, though his eyes have no problem seeing what lies before him. It seems someone on their own will felt that he didn't have the money, or maybe the time, perhaps thought that he was taking too long to mark the grave respectfully. Little did they know that this was to be HIS closure.

There upon the grave sat a single headstone for his wife - one that he had never seen, never been made aware of, and one... that left no room for him, either in its production or in its meaning.

Breaking Tradition

Is it intuition that I'm doomed, or do I just FEEL that way? I spent the better part of the day convinced that I was going to die today and not make it home or maybe just be partially dead. I made sure that when I left the house I was wearing matching socks with no holes, underwear that would not embarrass my mother - you get the idea.

Left the house with no dirty dishes, no business undone. Wouldn't want anyone to have to clean up after me. Seriously I had convinced myself that I was going to die today, or rather that I would be diagnosed to die today. Cancer doesn't run in my family, but I've never been one to follow the rules anyhow...I'd break that tradition. Some people get the honor of being the first in the family to graduate high school or college. I, on the other hand, was ready to take on being the first with cancer. I'm really setting my sights high.

No cancer for me today; I'll pass thanks. Tomorrow may be another story. Something is wrong with me, I tell you. I feel it. If my intuition is this precise, that would be something - but this is a really lame way to find out. And if it's not intuition, I'm just really lame. Loser.

I am a princess

Just for shits and giggles, I went out and did something I normally don't do. Don't hold your breath, it's not THAT exciting - I'm clearly not the risk taking type. Because I'm a girl and I totally feed off of comfort and refuge, I bought myself the fluffiest, prettiest, calmest, most gently royal feeling bedding set I could find. It kind of looks like this:

This means that every night when I climb into bed and pull the covers up to just under my chin, I actually FEEL one step closer to waking up and being a princess. =o) What have I been missing out on in life if all it took was one cozy blanket and few pillows to bring out a smile? Sure life sucks and no I'm really not completely satisfied with life just from a comforter, but heck... you mean happiness, even this small, is just within reach, even if it's for a few self indulgent fleeting minutes of being a princess... I'm in. I'm SOOO in.

Escape

I pick up a book and read it. It's entertaining because it allows me to escape. But then I've completely forgotten what I have just read. I sit at the piano. I can see the notes and hear them in my head. But I can not make my fingers play. I can not make them move. I shamefully admit at the meeting with admin that I actually have no idea what the answer is because I cannot seem to make one and one equal two. I know you need the answers and that you need them from me. There is not a logical way to explain that the synapses in this brain are simply not snapping. I can dump a mess of words into an email and hope the friend on the other end knows me well enough to translate this chaos. I search for an outlet. I relish each small accomplishment, and congratulate myself at the end of the day for a day with no panic attacks, nothing to self medicate, no mass suicides and no disappearing into never never land. Today thank God is almost over, and with any luck I can fall asleep and escape for several more hours.

People problems

Incredibly inconsequential things that are really getting under my skin today

-people in the public bathroom who you can hear unrolling the whole roll of TP like their ass is the size of Texas. Common sense tells me that if you can fit in the stall, your ass is not big enough to need that much of a wipe

-people who come to talk to you (in the store, at work, where ever) and have just stuffed their face full of food- so even if you cared what they said- there's no chance of knowing what they are saying

-kids who whine and badger

-but even more so, the PARENTS of the kids who whine and badger, and are so oblivious. Come here, now get me a knife, and I'll tie your tubes for you right now. It'll do us all a favor

-people who are so vain (like I'm one to be talking right now, but screw that, this is MY blog) that they are more concerned about being perceived as correct instead of ever doing the right thing

-people who assume that their curiosity and nosiness for YOUR business automatically usurps your right to privacy. They, in fact, are exempt from any moral boundaries

-people who have no rhythm and are tone deaf. Furthermore, to clarify, not so much people with no rhythm who are tone deaf, but those who insist on being heard/seen and ruin it for the rest of us

-people who think that the WWE is a real thing. It's a man's play= the female version of a soap opera, with testosterone. I don't care if you like it, just don't try to tell me you actually BELIEVE what's going on

-Loud people. I swear you were given vocal chords and a set of lungs and I promise you that you have more than one volume. Use it! Switch thing up a little

-people who ask a question to everything that is said or done. Never to get a better explanation, nooooo... I really think they just want to hear themselves talk

The fence

Retreat. Emerge. Retreat. Emerge.

Retreat longer, closer to center, finding balance and peace. Emerge and feel that I've gained no ground at all.

Find a meaning, a mantra that coincides with with hope and how to get there.

Declare that this does not define who I am, just a step closer to revealing it.

Straddle the decision to fight this fight or just ride it out.

Hands

Hi. Here am I. It was necessary for a forced hiatus. Needed to hide. In the blog world I spew the good and the bad, mostly the bad, my bad, to try and gain perspective and insight. I needed none of that for 2 weeks. I didn't want any F-ing perspective, and no more F-ing insight. I needed seclusion from opinions, emotions, handling.

Don't handle me. Don't tell me how to be. I needed to be numb if I was to survive. Do you know that another word for numb, per Roget's International Thesaurus 5th Edition, is "to deaden." Insane isn't it that in order to maintain my living breathing life, that it became certain that I must DEADEN part of my hurting, feeling, intellectual being.

I donned my most impressive poker face and went about life for 2 weeks and didn't breathe a word into this very cynical, hating world. Back inside my darkened heart was a story too difficult to tell another, too impossible to make the words come out of my mouth. 1 day in and it was already out. My secret is out.

The phone rang that night just as I hoped I could disappear into a night of sleep. MB, is that you? I reply, this is she. I could never have mustered up the courage to approach this and so he came to me. I had not heard from him in close to 13 years when we had worked together. I saw your name on the blotter at 3am this morning, a victim of domestic assault. Are you ok?
(For clarification, there was no assault. He would never hurt me, intentionally. But I knew that something was not right; he wasn't ok, and I wasn't going to be either if I let that night proceed. Something had taken residency in his psyche and was not letting go. So I called for help as a last resort. Thank God they saw what I had seen. Not a violent man, just one who was very, very sick. They took him away... hopefully he can be kept long enough to get the help he needs. I need him. I need to be able to trust him.)

I am ok, and confused and angry and so very grateful that a hand reached out to show compassion, and now so very scared that this very private, personal matter is now not just contained inside my head where it is safe, but is out there for the masses to critique. Distort. Dilute. Invade. It is safe with him. But I don't trust the rest.

Last night I had a dream about hands. Healing hands that mean no harm, that want nothing in return, just to embrace, to keep terror at bay, and to protect. That is what I want: somebody to love and be loved by who can protect and when he says TRUST ME that I can believe it and have a peace and calm within my soul that trumps all fear.

Seventeen

Less than 20 hours ago my life changed. 17 hours ago it got worse. SO much worse. I don't claim to be anything special, but I can NOT do this. I am cracking. Just when I think I've glued enough of me back together so I can saunter up my britches and face this world head on - the ground caves beneath my feet and I have nothing more than faith alone. I promise that I don't need much in this world. I don't need fancy clothes or cell phones. I don't need a suped up car or a nice fancy house. I am plagued with guilt in making any decision, no matter how small. I sincerely work hard, enjoy what I do, rejoice in the little things, and love ferociously. I try so hard with a good heart and good intentions and I thought that has got to count for something. Yet, here I am. How did I get here? I swore I'd never be that girl. The one who would allow that to happen. I have people that I am responsible to, how did I let it get this far? How am I not able to do anything about it? How have I convinced myself to stay? I can not face another person (whom I know) to tell them these things. They will judge. I am doing enough judging of myself, I don't need someone else disappointed too. They will think that I possess the inner strength to walk away, that I deserve better, but I can't. They will get angry or be let down and make it their business to chide my efforts. So every night I try to come up with a new plan. I try to realign myself to reality. I try and try and try, and yet... all I feel is that I am dying inside, little by little - and it's gaining speed. It's so completely out of my control. 17 hours ago I took a stand, and I failed. I am now on public display for humiliation. Congratulations! This is where my hard work has landed me.

Knitting

I like to believe that my soul is forever being fine tuned. It is what it is, but it wants to learn and grow and... evolve. If every hurdle that I come across I can view as piece that will somehow, some way fit into the big picture later on, then I don't feel so lost. I still feel lost, incredibly alone... just not AS lost. Some day it would be so great to be able wear the same me on the outside, that is on the inside.

What I really think is that I made such bad choices in my early years that I am being punished for them now. So part of me feels that this will continue; I deserve the awful things that keep coming my way. Maybe if I am able to live through this and not die in the meantime, that I can make amends and someday I'll break even.

I had a dream the other night, not a nightmare thank God, haven't had a bad one in a while. Right, so back to the dream... there I am, all exposed, nothing left to hide, nothing to be proud of, nothing nothing nothing, just me... and my broken heart, my crying spirit, my hurting soul all loosely braided together, falling apart, barely staying together. "Now this will hurt a little..." I hear said to me. Here comes the giant needle and I relive painful memories, and bit by bit, that giant needle stitches together part of my heart and soul, then soul and spirit that I never would have thought to put together, but they fit perfectly. I am being knit back together.

Weather

I can hate many things, though I try not to. At heart, really, I'm a lover not a hater. I like the weather. Any kind of weather: stormy weather with rain and thunder and lightning, windy weather with leaves spinning and swirling lost in the movement, warm weather that holds you close and breathes down your neck and whispers you secrets.

Wouldn't it be great if instead of secrets, that it could whisper the answers. I think it's just as romantic and am holding on to hope that some day, some how, I can find the answers too.

Theraputic ramblings

I blog because it's safe. I blog because it's a place where I can be completely honest, to others and to myself, but don't have to show my face. Writing, music, poetry allow me to process the feelings, and to put it down on paper validates it in a way. It makes it feel tangible, that it is something real: I am NOT invisible. I could never have these conversations with people in my every day life. Well, maybe I could, but how do I know it's safe? I fear rejection, humiliation, loss. I like to believe that I was made this way for a reason. Wishful thinking, I'm sure. Isn't there something that my quiet demeanor can offer to this world in contrast to those whose personalities are more forthright? Can't both be beneficial? Ying and yang?

I am always at a constant battle within myself. Do I feel I need to be more outspoken because I think I need to be that way? Or because I feel intimidated by those who are that way, and so I'd better be that way too.

Ha. Thinking back to my "quiet demeanor." This is where my general pace tends to fall. But here in this blog, in this forum I am a hundred times more advantageous that I could ever be in real life or in a "normal" blog where people knew me.

There are some things that I've known since I was a little girl. I've known exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. Never a doubt. Here lies the heartache: How can I know something so purely from the inside if my soul, and know that this very thing, I can try and try and try and I will continue to fail, disappoint, and not live up to what everyone else thought I was capable of. At what point does this dream need to come to an end? At what point do I surrender and quit trying to make people (and me) believe something that is hurting more people in the process. That's never what I wanted. Of course not.

The very things that ground me today are the very things that keeping me from spreading my wings. The people who I've come to respect and love and cherish, I want to keep SO close so I don't have to be without them, but I don't dare let the mask I wear down, for fear that who they thought I was, I've never been. Very selfish I know. I hang on their every word, but literally get panicked when I'm expected to give my own thoughts on something...out loud. No no no. My little inside world, is so sacred, so small, so vulnerable, it cannot be trusted with anyone. Not even me.

My ship

I can fail miserably at things and in my head be able to talk myself through them. Great. I can not STAND myself when I disappoint someone, especially someone who is close to my heart. I wouldn't do anything on purpose, it's those other things that I apparently say and do subconsciously that eeek their way out that kill me. Let me take the one person who believes (believed) in me, let them hear one conversation (not even about them) that I didn't know was being listened to by the outside world. It wasn't mean or hateful about anyone in particular, just a show of my own weakness and the darkness that has invaded my life... now on display... for another to hear. Please cut my tongue out, so the pain and hurt I feel can NOT be translated to words spoken from my mouth. I do not know how to describe how I feel..... sunken. I can't get the tense right. Sank? I've been sunk, I feel sunken...WTF? Sinking??? I just googled that to see what I could find... gave me chills. A sinking ship-- there I am.

Thinking again

I wonder if my doctors and I ever find out the cause or cure for my ailments, if I'll feel any better? Or will I just have nothing to hide behind any more? No more excuses, nothing more to duck behind and shield me from the truth. But then we are all going to die one day anyhow, right? Each day is one day closer, so why am I so bogged down with these nuances? Let me just let the guard down, let the little things roll on by, let me enjoy this life. Now if I could just get out of my own damn way, I'd be onto something here.

Let it go

Aw piss. It started out such a normal ordinary day. I should have known it was too good to be true, but hoped instead that it was a touch of good luck. Negative. Negatory dear one. Wrong again.

If I'm already on edge with a certain someone, and then that someone says "You know, I don't appreciate..." Great. Thanks for working with your I-statements. Now that you've opened THAT door, let me tear into you and detail your exact attributes that I don't appreciate, the ones I don't care for, the things you do that make me RAGE inside. All the things that collectively affirm that I am insane for staying to look at your face.

I honestly don't really care what you do and what you don't do. But, you've got to be kidding me if you can't do one thing without fucking it up. I don't care if you choose to go left or right. But if you choose to go right, go RIGHT and quit your bitchin.

If I know I'm good at one thing, it's being passive aggressive. I'm not all that proud of it, but I do it really well. So there. But then... this quiet girl, who normally is a bit shy, rather introverted, has zero-to-none speaking qualities or presence, usually thinks long and hard before she talks, makes every word that comes out have purpose...is gonna take you out back and rail on you cause you damn well deserve it and it's been long time coming.

I don't really think that I'm going to be the one to put you in your place. It's not my job. But I'll take a swing. Somewhere along the road of life you'll look back and realize you should have taken this as your wake up call. If you don't like what you do-- change it. If you don't like who you are-- change it. If you keep doing the same damn thing day in and day out, and you don't get where you want to go-- take another route. I certainly don't claim to know it all, but can't you see you're dragging everyone down around you?

Let go.

More Questions

I went to church last week.

...

Have you ever felt safe from everything in the world

while sitting in church and the rain is pouring down outside?

The sound of the rain on the roof during the silence of church

has to be the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

So beautiful that the tears came and they flowed freely

and fell from my face to the pew and onto the floor.

Do you think they could hear my quiet sobs

through the sounds of the rain?

Do you think He could hear me...

and see my tears mixing with the wet from the rain in the floor?

Questions...

Do think everything happens for a reason? Do you think that if you really want something, and things keep getting in the way, that it not supposed to be ? Or that you're supposed to try harder? Do you ever have those moments when you know very clearly that what you're doing, no matter how ridiculous it seems to every one else, is exactly what you've needed to be doing all along?

So many questions, and so few answers. The more more questions, the less answers, and MORE questions.... who made up these rules anyhow? Captivatingly frustrating.

I am very much into a routine; it's my safety net, my comfort zone. It's a way for me to gauge how the day is going. I realize this is the tiniest little thing, but... I bought a new kind of laundry detergent yesterday. OMG it has made my house smell sooooo yummy. I can't help but be in a good mood. =) It's the little things. What little things have made your day?

Lonely Sunday

I am excessively tired; I can sleep for hours upon hours. I'll wake up and not feel any bit better except that I haven't had to deal with life for the last several hours. I fight the inner voice that pleads to stay in bed and hide under the covers, but most days I can wrangle my way out and hate every step of the way. Work is just far enough of a commute away that there are several points along the way that I could make a u-turn and high tail it home. Some of these days I succeed, and some of them I don't. I used to be a bright, optimistic, looking to the horizon type of person, and now I am just a shell of that former person. The majority of my life has been fine, low key, run of the mill, with a few really unfortunate things sprinkled in there every now and then. My depression and view of my lack luster life is not conducive to the life I've lived. I don't want pity, I don't need my past changed, and I sure as hell don't need someone to tell me how I SHOULD be living, feeling, breathing. I know life isn't fair. I don't want justice changed just for me... I just need the voice in my head not to be so damn negative. I am surrounded by beauty and all I can see is the ugly, the hatred, the dread. You know what I really want? Not that it would make anything better in the long run, but just for a moment, it'd be so great to have one single person know and feel what's in my heart, and stand up and think that I am worthy to be loved, to be protected, defended, and held.

One level deeper

Yesterday's posting in BOLD. Today's explanation italicized.

I must have a keen sense for a load-o'-crap about to dump itself on me. Hey crap, ya you! I'm this way! I should have gone into today with a fricken bullet proof vest and a really special helmet with a damn target on it, and my shoelaces tied together. I tell you, I am down for the count. Today took me down. I never even had a chance.

It's one thing if it's about me. But today it's not. It's about someone that I love... my own flesh and blood. So I will fight til the death. I will protect at any cost. And yet again, it is out of my control. Although the current predicament is not dire (yet), or of life and death matter, it is absolutely infuriating. As in: I know what I want the outcome to be, but haven't the means, or brains, or secret potion to make it happen. No matter how strong I stand, no matter how tough my exterior, inside or out, I fail to save. I cannot save. I've had someone slip through my finger tips already. I've watched the death creep up and slowly strangle and steal and suffocate. I can not do this again. Death follows me. Unfortunately it is not metaphoric death of which I speak. I have watched death firsthand, invade a perfectly functional, loving, hardworking, soft spoken life and infest itself, raiding the body, the organs, the mind... slowly, methodically picking off one at a time, while there's nothing else to do but sit and watch. Knowing they KNOW they are dying. One organ at a time.

If I love you, please stay the hell away from me. I don't know that I can live through this again. When I re-read this part today, it's sounds creepy. But I meant it in more of a Kennedy way: The "Kennedy Curse" etc. I am certainly not a Kennedy, not famous, not financially powerful, but death follows my loved ones like the plague. It dogs me like I've sinned very badly and each loved one will be plucked away from me to get even.

Thus the problem I have with relationships: can not get close to anyone. I feel much safer in my own little bubble world, not letting anyone in, where I am safe. Safe from losing another loved one. I love my anonymity. Lonely as hell, but love my anonymity and safe haven. I desperately want to break out of this shell. I'm scared to death, however, the next person I love will be taken in a heartbeat. And here we start again, with my own flesh and blood. I just can't live through this again.

It's following me

I must have a keen sense for a load-o'-crap about to dump itself on me. Hey crap, ya you! I'm this way! I should have gone into today with a fricken bullet proof vest and a really special helmet with a damn target on it, and my shoelaces tied together. I tell you, I am down for the count. Today took me down. I never even had a chance.

It's one thing if it's about me. But today it's not. It's about someone that I love... my own flesh and blood. So I will fight til the death. I will protect at any cost. And yet again, it is out of my control. Although the current predicament is not dire (yet), or of life and death matter, it is absolutely infuriating. No matter how strong I stand, no matter how tough my exterior, inside or out, I fail to save. I cannot save. I've had someone slip through my finger tips already. I've watched the death creep up and slowly strangle and steal and suffocate. I can not do this again. Death follows me.

If I love you, please stay the hell away from me. I don't know that I can live through this again.

Another day

The rain came down and it was so beautiful. I can bitch with the best of them, but I live in a beautiful part of the middle of nowhere. The trees did fall. The power didn't go out.

I hate that my current stability is in the hands of a prescription antidepressant manufacturer. I have tried valiantly to survive and carry on without them. I fail. I have succeeded in not succumbing to any other forms of self medication. Point: me.

It scares me to death to be at the complete mercy of another, be it a person, a situation, medication, what have you. I hate to not be in control. It drives me batty. Yet at the very same time I secretly wish that one mighty person could break into my life and take each aspect and orchestrate it gently, affirmatively, boldly, lovingly and care that I survive the day.

Things...

... I am currently diggin' this very moment in time:

• This rain storm is awesome. I hope it knocks out all the power lines and hope trees fall and prevent me from going anywhere tomorrow
• The sound of the rain falling on the roof soothes me; drops my blood pressure and everything
• Octagon shaped drinking glasses feel really good on my lips. What gives? It almost actually makes the water TASTE better...
• The movie Changeling. It's fascinating. Anyone else seen it?
• The fact that tomorrow is Valentine's Day and I am already done celebrating. I'm a fast learner. Done. Next.
• Found some old piano music that I started to learn in high school. Still can't find the first page, so I have no idea what the name of it is, actually can only find pages 2,3,4, so I guess I'll give it a new ending too
• It's Friday
• Ate really scrumptious pineapple today, but a little too much cause now my tongue's hurting
• Tried to eat fairly firm grapes with a fork with skewed prongs, this was the highlight of my day. Tricky little bastards.

A Mentor

I've taken someone under my wing recently. He's a "troubled" youth. That's if I needed to label him, but I really don't want to. I'd say, given the life this lad's had, the fact that he wants to go to school, isn't into drugs, has dead-beat parents and he's way behind on high school credits, ya know, give the kid a break. Applaud him for not going the "easy route" of thug life. We live on the outskirts of town, and our houses are at least a mile past the mass transit drop off. Where he's staying is still a few miles past my house. He doesn't have transportation, so he walks or hitch hikes, or takes the bus if he's close enough. I pick him up frequently and take him to/from school. He has my number, but really only seems to call or text if he REALLY needs a ride and it's freezing outside. (I appreciate this; it makes me feel like he's not taking advantage of the situation, and doesn't want to wear out his welcome.) All this kid is missing is a family. Did no one love him as a baby? No held him and hugged him and kissed his cheeks and tickled his belly? No one laughed with him and read him stories and tucked him into bed at night? No one cares if he makes it to school or not, if he's walking in 30' weather and doesn't own a jacket. I know he's not my problem. I'm easily pulled into codependent relationships, so I'm walking a fine line trying to be human, but keep myself safe. He says please and thank you. He looks me in the eye. He likes to go to the local coffee shop when it's slow and play the piano. He's a walking, talking, capable young man who has slipped through the cracks of life and doesn't know any better. I've had some of my best conversations with him lately. I don't know that I can provide him anything more than a listening ear and a caring heart, but my heart has softened for this kid. I want him to succeed.

Me

Wash away my face and wet my hair
my clothes hang damp, my feet are bare.
Let the rain beat down and wipe away
all I've carried here today.

I take my masque and I let it go
let it drop it no longer knows
I take my armor and release my grip
it too, too heavy as I start to sift.

A journey through the rain and into the light
wash me, cleanse me, please give me sight
all my adornments are laid now to rest
all of my worth is right in my chest

Take all of the sadness, all of the lies
wash them from the me and far from my eyes
Let it pour off my body and restore me anew
Let me start over, rebuild my heart too.

The falling I've mastered, it's the landing that tears
me all a part, that haunts with the dares
So rain down upon me as I shed everything old
no more secrets, every thing's told.

Nothing left to hide when it's all washed away
Nothing to hold back from a new glorious day
So take me, and mold me, I'm starting to see
There something dying to get out, inside, it's me.

Lovely Friday

Nothing special to report today. Except perhaps that I'm not dead, and that's always a good start. Not only am I not dead, I didn't kill any one else either. This too, some where, some place has to be earning me super-sized-karma points. I'm convinced. Not nearly as depressed as I have been in previous weeks, and I contribute this entirely to prescription medications that are trying to bring me back to normal. Not proud of that, but they are not pain killers, so whatever. I've got to start somewhere. Little things are making me laugh again, and this is a welcome welcome return. In closing, let me share two non-monumental thoughts: 1- Someone asked me if it's possible to have a half-wedgie? Do I seem like someone who would have the answer to that? Ponder that and let me know. I eagerly wait your reply. 2- I know what happens to a tube of toothpaste if it accidentally takes a flying secret leap into the washer and then to the dryer...un-noticed. Minty freshness abounds.

Rebuild me

I think I've figured out what I need. Well, maybe. You know how engines need to be rebuilt, so they run better? I need my engine rebuilt. I need to be completely taken a part, have each piece cleaned and restored, and then be carefully, conscientiously, lovingly, put back together so I can run again. I tell you the essence of my being is coming from a good place; it's the damaged goods that I've become that keeps holding me back, by my own doing, no doubt.

Am I looking for affirmation in all the wrong places? I do feel that my needs versus wants are organically simple and humble... what am I missing? Personal relationships and friendships are some of the most rewarding things for me. But the structural integrity of past ones has compromised my ability to trust... anything... anyone... It's so much easier to be safe and quiet and never allow those doors to open. And that's exactly how I got to be like this. I am genuinely convinced that if I take the time and love and effort and hurt to take down these walls, that the person whom I've allowed in, will be, without a doubt, taken from me. Be it by illness, or lies, accident, war, or act of God. I know this has made me who I am. That doesn't make me like it any more.

What scares me too, is that things I used to take refuge in, just aren't working for me anymore either. The things I once enjoyed don't hold the same value for me. They no longer resonate. It's a very out of body experience watching myself slip away from reality.

Isn't this where the hand of God is supposed to reach down and scoop me up in the palm of His hand, and tell me everything will be ok?

Release me...

Release Me

Release me from this day of dread
Release me from the day ahead
I fear not for I've nothing left to give
In me is more, but not enough to live
I can see the water rising and it calls to me
Beckons me even closer, and to hide with thee
Inside me dwells a life of pain

Which longs to love and be retained

I've travelled this path too long already
My heart means well, but my hand unsteady
The tide surges up and sneaks back away
Please take me too, far far away
I fall, I bleed, I cry alone
Can these be the seeds I've sown?
How can it be for these are dead
Dying quietly under the tread

Nothing to show but lies on my face
A mind full of memories but without a place
Take all I have, for it is already gone
A sorry tale yes, but they will move on
Sweep me under the great mighty sea
Show me love and light and please
Take my hand and hold it tight
For touch alone casts away my fright

Help me feel the wind again
let it heal and rush past, and send
anything to me of trust and hope
A knot at the end of a life line rope

Let the rain wash down and cleanse this mind
Hold me close in a love of twine
Just close enough to feel its breath
And keep away the tempt of death
You do not need to save me, see
Just stand right here and help me be
Don't let me go, just hold on tight
don't give up on me, not tonight

Release me from this life of past
let's set sail and raise the mast
Take these burdens and let them go
let them drowned and sink below
Search me, know me, feel my soul

I long to be but in control

Help me escape and run like hell

Fast as we can up to the bell

Let it toll for us of honest hearts

Let it crack but not break apart

Let it have scars and stories too

But it will sing for me and you
It will sing a song of truth
Of burden, death and more to choose
Grasp on to that rope and we'll ring it loud
Release me please up to the clouds.

Drawing strength

This stupid, stupid week has taken a turn for the worse. The pain returned and I could see it coming from a mile away, stalking me, mocking me, slowly inching closer until its entire black cloud completely covered me and all of my thoughts. It hasn't been this bad in a long, long time. Actually woke up in the middle of the night absolutely convinced that this time it was it. This time I was dying...and as long as it made the pain go away, I was totally ok with it. Looking back, I know now that I must have been in a very low place. Scary. I don't like that. 4 days, 3 doctor visits, 1 trip to the ER, and enough new meds to make me feel like a really UN-useful old hag lady. Today is the first day relatively pain free (3/10...which I can deal with...) but the after effects are still strangling me. Give it up already. GIVE IT UP!!! Give a girl a chance already huh?

In the doctor's office today, I drew strength from a little crappy calendar on the wall that was poorly put together. (Like me. How cute.) No idea who wrote it, and that's ok too:

"We live far more joyfully when we allow ourselves a playful spirit."

Does this imply that people ARE able to live joyfully, playfully, happily? I SOOO want in on some of that. I'm trying to keep my head up. Doing the best I can. But dammit, this is just getting ridiculous.

Still confused

Is it something in the air? Maybe it's the weather? Maybe, really, it's just me, looking, grasping for anything to make this all clear. The pain is back. The nightmares are back. As if that's not enough, I wake up in a screaming panic and can't for the life of me figure out where I am when I wake up. After a few moments taking inventory of the surroundings, I realize AGAIN that I am in my own bed, in the bedroom, in my house. Can I really be losing it all this early in life? Maybe I've been losing it all along, and I just can't hide it any more.

Waste

Alright. I put up with the crappiest day today. My brow hurts from shooting daggers ALL. DAY. LONG. Actually, let me rephrase one thing. It's not the people I hate, per se. It's their actions. Hate the actions not the people. I get that. I just don't get people. See the problem? I know how I want people to be, and they are just not being that way... the nerve.

First: People who believe they are entitled really get under my skin. Entitled to know, be nosy, be out for the drama and the gossip. Get away! If someone doesn't say something to you...They probably DON'T want YOU to know. Don't be hurt by it. Move on. It's not all about you. If you really care, take a step back and wonder to yourself if there are unbecoming qualities about you that scare the shit out of people. Maybe like you're not trustworthy? Perhaps you are just stupid and you should deal with that too while you're at it. Just a suggestion.

Second: People who think life isn't fair, and bitch about it all the time. Know what? You're right!?!? Life isn't fair. That's the only thing you're going to get right. Ride that one out while you can, it's a good feeling.

Third: People who constantly tell others their personal business. There's some leniency with this one that will weigh carefully the closeness of the friendship, the text of the conversation, and the setting. For the most part I do NOT want to hear about you and your old man, and how you may or may not be able to get it on, and all the intimate details of your dirty deeds... thank you very much for just ruining my own sex life as I now proclaim celibacy.

Lastly, I've got to figure out how to channel this all a little better. I mean, having a panic attack for fear of having another panic attack because things are spinning out of control... that's a poor way to get my point across. Aw piss. What a waste of a day.

Success!

I did it. I totally did it. Something completely spontaneous, and not at all something I would normally do. My normal Sunday evening plans were not going to happen tonight. I knew they were put on hold this week, so I took the chance. I left the house a little early so I could get a good cup of chai first. At least that would give me something to set an even keel. Now here's the thing about me and expectations: I hate to expect anything, even little because I'll always be let down... even if I set my sights low. Always let down, always disappointed. I'd rather expect nothing, not put anything out there on the line. And if something great happens- swell. So tonight I'm driving to my destination, after getting my chai, and I text a friend to see if she wanted to be spontaneous with me and meet me in 20 minutes. Just enough time for her to get there if she wanted, and just a smidge of time so that I could convince myself later that she didn't get the message, and therefore not get my feelers hurt. HA! She came, and brought another mutual friend that was with her at the time.

Let me tell you what I enjoy about doing something like this. Besides the two friends who were with me, I was an unknown quantity in this place. I am anonymous. Nobody there knew me, knew my past, knew my present, knew anything. I did steal a quick comment to the friends that I am in the midst of a mid-life-crisis and had to get the hell out of normal daily routine. And though I love them dearly, they kind of chuckled and said "You can't have a mid-life-crisis if you're not mid-life age." I refrained from glaring and feeling hurt and said "I've lived through more than normal people in one life time. I've earned my mid-life-crisis stripes thank you very much." And the hushed. As well they should.

So tonight I was completely intoxicated with new (to me) music, a life blood of sorts that made me feel. FEEL. I have been so determined to NOT FEEL, to live an abbreviated life of sorrow, I forgot that all feelings need not be sad. I have this little glimmer of hope that revealed itself to me tonight. I have to remember this, because I know this latest bout with depression is not a done deal. It's still lingering, that bastard.

Weekend ahead

I'm looking forward to a weekend with not a damn thing planned. That, my friends, is something delightful. Maybe I'll clean the house, maybe work in the yard. Maybe it'll continue to rain which will force me to do absolutely nothing constructive but sit in the living room on the big comfy couch. Maybe I'll turn up the music and open the windows to the rain and sing my little heart out.

I think I may do one totally spontaneous thing this weekend. These kinds of things always end up being a great adventure, and totally out of my comfort zone. I think I may take a few hour's drive and find a new favorite place. What I'd really like is to be transported to a magically beautiful place that takes no time or energy or planning. But just short of that, I'll be fine with a drive. I'm really not that picky.

I wonder if I'll ever find that person, that one person who completely understands me? Or at least someone who is willing to join this search with me and hold my hand along the way? It doesn't have to be a spouse even, just a friend. Just someone to listen and validate and care. Isn't that what we all want? But how can we (me)...how can I find anything of substance to ground me if I'm scared to death of everything that would ground me. I don't think I can win. I just want a fighting chance.

I will not be numb

Someone said something to me today that completely caught me off guard. Something about my past that at the time absolutely consumed me, and was so painful that I had since shut it out and put it in the very back of my heart, safe safe safe. Safe from thought, or nit picking, or judgement. I didn't even recognize it when they said it at first. And then it came barrelling back and sat right in front of me and looked me in the eye. I couldn't really speak for a few minutes. I was re-remembering all the details and simultaneously amazed that I had managed to FORGET about it. But in the safety of this conversation, though albeit terribly uncomfortable, I was empowered and encouraged to not just be numb, but ride it out, feel it out, deal with it, process it. Process it with love and hope, not to be ashamed. It is what it is. I lived through it. I tucked it away when I couldn't deal with it. And now, it was safe to haul it back out, lean forward and stare the SOB memory down and deal with it. It has NO power over me anymore. And that feels really, really good.

Swept away

Catch me if you can, dear ones who have held me back all my life. And all those I've allowed to hold me back all these years. I sense a change in the tide. I feel the swell approaching of an incredible new day that hints at hope... for me.

Waiting

Oh I am SO OVER this. OVER OVER OVER. I was almost hit twice tonight driving home. Gave me flashbacks of a bad accident I was in a couple years ago. Hit head on. It was bad but I walked out of that alive. I don't know how, should have been dead. Mangled metal, fire, helicopters, ambulances, firemen, police, screams, trying to catch my breath, trying to figure out if I was opening my eyes to the world, or was I opening them to heaven? Then catching myself from willing to be dead, because that would have been SO MUCH EASIER. I did not will that tonight, I did not.

Is there something to be gained from all this? Let's say I make it through another day, another month, several years... is it all building up for something better? Am I learning something along the way? Some great anecdote that answers all these burning questions? I'm afraid the majority of the time I'm just learning how to tolerate, how to be numb. I haven't mastered how to enjoy. I don't know how to let go and JUST BE.

I am totally and completely trapped inside a life that has taken me so far from my intended path, that I can't seem to know how to work my way back. Back to a beautifully joyful peace. Back to a place of love. And trust. Not from another person per se (although that'd be great too...) but a peace, love and trust for who and what I am. I can not go back and make history rewrite itself for me. I know better than that. I need acceptance from myself of what life has dealt me. It is what it is. I can't change it. Move on.

Ever notice that sometimes things are so diluted, so complicated that it takes all your effort to just block them out to have a single thought? I think that's where I'm at. Start small. One single rational thought. Like trying to play an old piece and not quite getting it, the notes are all jumbled. But if I close my eyes and feel the keys and follow the sound... it will come.

...I will wait.

It's out there

Many things are at alternating poles of my life. I can't get them to meet in the middle; I can't explain the differences, and they constantly intrigue me. There's a budding desire in me to not just be busy in life, but to be effective. Someone I know has a sticker that says "Look busy, Jesus is coming." I think this is funny and I think it's annoying all at the same time. I don't want to fill my life with ridiculous possessions and fear-laden thoughts. I yearn to be more than just another human who is taking up air. I want to be more. What is holding me back? Then, as if this side of me may not even exist, I'd relish in just sitting back and taking a ride. I want to be on someone else's ride in life, where I don't have to make decisions, where I'm not forced to remember anything that made me ME. I want to be the passenger and take in all the beauty of the world, the country side, the sunrise, LIFE. I know it's out there. So, do I have to get outside my own life in order to learn to enjoy life, so I can take it back in my secret pocket and try to work it into my every day life? Why does it have to be so complicated? Why am I incapable of going from point A to point B in an orderly fashion? I could save so much time in this life if I just had a map and a key. Any ideas?

My quest

Dreams have only one owner at a time. That's why dreamers are lonely.

~ Erma Bombeck

I have slept most of the day today. Relaxing. Escaping. I, however, am not all together pleased when the dreams turn to nightmares and stalk me. Sometimes it's so hard to tell the difference between dream and reality. Who's life is this? Weird.

There is no thing in this life that is going to make me happy. I've got to find the peace within. There are some people who will never be happy. No matter what they have, no matter their status. There are others who are happy with nothing. Always happy. Authentically happy and at peace in their lives... so much so that when troubled waters rise, they don't dodge it or hide, they just ride it out. This is my quest.

How is one to move on? I can genuinely forgive, but I can't erase the pain, the scars are so deep. I can forgive and forget what has been done. But my subconscious knows and hurts and lashes out even when I'm sure that I've gotten past it. The anxiety seems to be swallowing me whole. Can't think of words, can't make a choice, heart is racing, heart attack? is this real or a dream? Can't someone do this for me? I really don't care what the outcome is just get me out of here.

Please.

I know this isn't "normal." That freaks me out even more. What have I become? A mechanical person who works and IS and rarely has emotions visible to the outside world. Can't trust. It isn't in my genetic make up to trust. I want to trust, I promise I do. But I try and I fail. And failure is getting really old.

Relentless

It's not so much that things have changed recently. Everything is always changing. But I've put up a strong front for so long; it's taking its toll. I'm breaking. Slowly rupturing for the world to see. Melting into a puddle that just can't hide behind the happy face any longer, because I haven't got the strength right now. I haven't got the strength to do a damn thing but sit here and type and make sure one breath after another comes out of this body.

I remember screaming at my dad years ago, "I didn't ask to be here, to be born. I'd rather just die." I meant every word of it. I've never been more truthful and vulnerable. I'll never tell another soul that again, or anything near it cause it hurts too much to try and explain the pain when they just stand there and stare at you with the blank look that just doesn't give a shit.

I have a good life on the outside. A good strategy for deflecting and keeping people beyond my safe barricade. They have no idea. NO IDEA. It's a dark world out there and a dark road that leads to my heart. This is the way I've learned to survive. I'd rather chose to be alone on the inside than try and let anyone in...and fail.

So here I am world. What have you got for me now? It's the rebel in me that's not going to let you take me down.

Known but to God

Somethings are too frighteningly painful to relive or retell or even hang on to in one's own heart. Some of these haunt me and some of them have been buried away, safe from the surface. I was thinking yesterday about a particular issue I deal with daily. It seems silly, but it controls my life. Very much obsessive compulsive. Where they hell did this come from? What created this monster within? And then I got it. A hidden inner chamber of my life's story opened up and unleashed a truth that has been feeding this addiction.

I get it. This small little part. I can't do anything to change it (yet) but I get it. Why it's here. Why I must do the things I do. I like to believe everything has a purpose and meaning. This one is known but to God.

Get a grip

I've got a friend. (Don't choke here-- it's true!) She is a WARRIOR on the inside with a perfectly humbled heart. She has conquered every hurdle with resolve and dedication. (Think... surgery seriousness here...) She takes each breath of day as a joyful encounter. She is happy after countless setbacks. She doesn't complain nor does she play the pity-me-party. She, more than anyone else I know deserves a little pick-me-up. God forbid if she actually takes a moment out for herself and I'll be damned if she isn't cornered like a bad dog needing to defend itself. I don't get it. They don't know her history. And she doesn't want them to. And so they think they are owed an explanation of her choices. This all does not compute in this head of mine. Since when were nosey people being cloned by the masses?

Don't remember

I want to be just like you. Is the grass always greener on the other side? I want to be just like anyone else as long as it doesn't have to be me. I'm tired of being me. I'm tired of all the hurts that I need to NOT remember. A weighted life that doesn't let up unless for a brief time that swallows my senses into fairty tale land where I can pretend that life is normal. That is where I want to live forever.