Originally posted at Blogger in February 2012
I had a hard day yesterday. I did not leave the house, some times it just comes over me and I need a day to do nothing. Well I did the dishes but that’s all I could muster. The tiredness comes on and it’s frustrating because I don’t know why and I just need to do nothing. I hate taking naps. I don’t want to sleep my life away, but some times it becomes a necessity if I want to be able to re-group.
I think I’ve just gotten caught up in all my grief. There’s been so much since Mom’s death. Two of my High school classmates have died. Some of my classmates parents have died, little ol ladies from Church have gone on and one too many young people. I’ve watched too many sad movies and adding a sad book to the mix hasn’t helped these last few weeks. But the cloud lifted this morning reminding me of an overwhelming sadness from before mom died, so I got out the journal and read some slips of paper of tidbits I had written since hearing bad news.
Sittin’ in the car the last hour contemplatin’ nothin’ in particular, except, maybe wishin’ for a full tank of gas and some place far away to go.
Driving home in the night. Feeling some kind of magic. Makes me want to miss the turn and drive as far as I can. See where I end up in the morning light and start all over again.
It came to me in the shower, the shower. I didn’t think I could get out fast enough to get it out of my slippery thoughts and down on a piece of paper before it was lost.
I can’t understand why it’s so dark when the light is on?
I can not see my face in the mirror, my eyes are clouded over.
My days have a number, yet my hands are tied to live these days.
I’m standing on the next to bottom rung and wonder how to climb the many rungs up, instead of one rung down and out for the count. It takes so much to climb up. Courage, Faith, Hope. It takes nothing from me to step down.
I’ve allowed the world in and she has abused me.
Thanksgiving Day 2010 –
I put on anger like a suit of armour to protect myself from my pain.
I bear a shield of wit to guard me from the sorrow that begs to escape my lips.
I hold a smile, but wonder who can see the pain in my eyes, in my heart and in my soul.
I laugh in front of others while I suppress the heartache and tears.
Knowing this day, that some have seen you standing for the very last time. I wonder what passes through their thoughts. Is it the same as mine?
How do I say the last and final farewell, when it becomes apparently such? Do I say it through the mask of strength or drop my armour and show my fear?
Why must we apologize for our tears? Why do we cover them and hide them. Why are we afraid to share?
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