The shadows start before noon, and the chill wind creeps around the corners and through every crack and strain in the fenstrations. I huddle in the products of my craft, hands pulling the fabrics tight about me as I struggle to find warm.
This year you left me forever, I will never hear your voice again, never feel your hand rub my shoulder, never see your smile again. I miss you so much, even though our lives took different paths, through distant lands. You were the adhesive that kept the family from disintegration, and now there is no family.
The child is gone. My work is finished there. I will never again see her, it seems, never see the results of my broken and inadequate attempt at parentage. There is no forgiveness, there is no love, there is but lonliness and emptiness. But then, I've always been broken, inadequate, empty. Why would this day become any different? What is the meaning when all you strive for turns to dust? The preachers lied. The television lied. The teachers lied. This is not Leave it to Beaver. There is no Ward Cleaver. All is dust, and ash. Tasteless remnants of a promised feast that never materialized.
To what end the cycle of sticking and reading, recording and gulping yet another pill, yet another drug, yet another attempt to change what is broken and inadequate? Why the focus on all the things that only continue to fail?
When can this end, please?
It's just the body chemistry talking to you right now. What you are thinking is not what you really are - it's a distortion. Hang on. Ok, here's a funny incident along those lines. One young guy has a problem with hearing voices (schizophrenia) and we told him, not to worry about it, it's just his chemicals talking to him. When we took him to the psychiatrist, he told the dr., Doc, my testicals are talking to me all the time! I have to hand it to the dr., he just leaned back and said, "Oh, and how long has this been going on?" So disregard all testicals and hang in there. You'll come out of it and feel much better.
ReplyDeleteAre you okay hon???
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking of you, Sew. . .
ReplyDelete"Searching for Comfortably Numb"
ReplyDeleteThat's easy hon, drink until you are numb. LOL
I'm not sure what this is entirely all about but you sound so sad to me. Hold on tight to every good memory you have, those are worth keeping and making more of them is worth while. There will be more. I promise you that.
ReplyDeletePlease don't aim to be numb. Aim to feel life again. It's there and it can be good. It really can.
You're one of my new cyber friends and I would hate to see someone give up on one of my new friends. I won't if you won't. :)
Stopped by to say hi from BBC's site and am sorry you're having such a rough time. Hang in there, Sewmouse.
ReplyDeleteSee.... See..... See.....
ReplyDeleteWe love you... Hugs.
supportive and loving thoughts being sent your way. words are inadequate in times of any kind of loss.
ReplyDeleteAnything I can do for you hon? Besides love you that is, because I loved you before I met you.
ReplyDeleteI can always love you more, but I will never love you less. Hugs.
Beautiful piece of writing (and piss orf bbc, you can be overbearing at times .. heh).
ReplyDeleteWhere will it end, sewmouse? The day you forget to draw the breath of inspiration.
Cheers and best wishes for this season of birth and renewal.