"Dear God, It's Me, Margaret" I vaguely remember reading that book as a child, now I find myself composing something quite similar. I have no one to talk to... Well that isn't completely true, I talk to people all night long, it's my job to do so. That's just the mundaneness of that ugly four letter word that pays the bills. It certainly does not bring me joy, nor even a challenge like it used to. It is only a thorn in my side that must be endured for the greater good. C'est la vie.
So this gets me back to my point. I have no one to talk to. No one that understands and that won't fly off the handle at my particular topic of interest.."I'm having a real hard time with this whole living thing"
It has become much like my job, a thorn in my side that must be endured. The alternate is looking more and more appealing daily..who am I kidding, it's looking more appealing hourly. I find myself trying to put my affairs in order, but I'm not quite to that point yet. Not ready to face that eternal darkness, no, not quite yet.
Would anybody notice? I mean really notice? Or am I just dust in the wind? We all are, if you really sit and think about it. Of all those I have laid to rest and said goodbye to, the world did not stop turning because they were gone, the winds just shifted slightly allowing for their passing. Though I have to say, the last loss tilted my existence axis beyond recovery me thinks. Hell, he wouldn't even recognize me now, I don't hardly recognize myself. There is no knowing when I look in the mirror...only hollow eyes, deep, dark and languid pools of suffering and sadness. I hardly cry at the sadness anymore, perhaps I have shed my quota of tears and there are none left in reserve. The ache is still there though. I can feel it deep inside my chest. Like when I lost JD, time and time again..even now, that ache is there. Or when I gave my daughter up or lost my other one...that deep seated ache that has no boundaries but can grab ahold of your ability to function.
Why!! Why!! Why!! Why do these things have a hold on me? Why do you allow it? I know I know, that is a rhetorical and down right silly question to ask. You gave me free will, though you may guide me, my destiny is still my own. No matter how many issues I work through, or ghosts that I think I have laid to rest, it still creeps up. Perhaps I am like the dog that has been beat one too many times, cowering in the corner at the raise of a hand, muscle memory..I can't forget, can't let go of it.. It is too deep, too embedded in me, it is a part of me. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just blah. Void of emotion and too tired to care anymore. Eternal sleep, rest with no memories to haunt me and steal my joy. Wishful thinking I'm guessing. Murphy's Law, this crap will follow me to the grave and beyond. Tis the hand you dealt me, I'm doing my best but I'll be honest, the chips are down and I'm ready to fold.
Sinking slowly....
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