One can search for something until it is found
For me I have decided to begin creating
I have grown tired of wandering around for something that has not appeared
I have decided to create the things I want
Nothing will change
Yet everything will change
I am creating thoughts that make me believe that I have what I want
I have what I want
Because I am telling myself I do
I am to tired to search for things that will never come to be
So I have created them in my mind
“Stop yelling” Irene whispered, as she took another puff of the cigarette she found in her coat pocket.
“Do you realize the severity of this situation?” Tammy screamed, not waiting for a response, as the tears began. “If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting there smoking that damn thing as if it were just another day.”
Irene suddenly jumped up, knocking over the table she had propped her feet up on. Systematically the half-dozen empty wine glasses that littered the table crashed to the ground, as she crossed the room.
“Tammy, it is just another day. THIS is our life now. You knew what you were getting us into, when you promised your mother you would keep Dane out of trouble.”
“You better watch what you’re doing.” Tammy said, as she shifted her weight, feeling for the slight stiffness of her gun against the small of her back.
Irene was still coming towards her.
“We are going to have this out like real women, pull out your gun and unload the clip.” Irene was already sticking her hand in her boot as she stopped in front of Tammy.
“You are an idiot…” Tammy laughed thru the tears.
“Pull out your damn gun!” Irene yelled as she emptied her clip and slammed her gun on the counter that separated them.
She had pleaded with it all night. It came for a short time, but slipped away quickly like a turtle in its shell.
It started around 1:30am and was still going now. The sky was ushering in the eerily pink sun draping it with shades of orange, peach, and gold.
She sat and pondered if it were wise to indulge in another cup of coffee, being it so early. The first had been consumed in haste and necessity. The cold air had gripped her firmly, as she attempted to draw warmth from her blankets, and before she knew it the cup was the temperature of no return.
You see, between settling the dogs, finding the heater was out of gas, and realizing the night sky was quickly retreating, she had abandoned her cup to the table outside knowing that was where she would settle for the morning. As paws pattered on the wooden deck, ripples were forming in her cup. With each ripple another breath of heat was expelled from the cup, and when she finally retired to her place on the green sofa she took a sip and knew she had two choices. She would need to consume the entire cup then and there, or she would have to waste the entire cup.
One does not “reheat” a cup of coffee.
She snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, and before she knew it she was waking up. Unbeknownst to her, she had dozed off, and was now running late. The second cup would have to wait for the car as she was then sure she needed the second cup.
“She’s here” he thought and that feeling in his stomach immediately began.
She would never know the love he had for her.
When she walked into a room he could always feel her presence. He believed he could pick her face out of a crowd of thousands. His heart ached as she laughed, knowing he wasn’t the one causing her joy. He wanted her to be happy, but he died a little ever day knowing he wasn’t the one adding to it. Every breath she spent uttering the name of another, was a breath stolen from him.
This particular day he wanted to run his hands thru the silky thick tendrils of her hair, as she went on about her day. She was wearing the jacket he gave her, but he had to remind himself it didn’t mean anything. For the sake of his own sanity he had to remind himself that is what the purpose of clothing is… To be worn. He had to push past the reckless desire he had to cloth her in his warmth. He wanted to keep her safe and he had to accept that the jacket was as close as he would ever be to holding her in his arms.
“I have to speak to her…” he thought, as he stared across the floor, the bass pounding against his chest. He wondered if she felt that pounding too, and for a moment the rest of the world disappeared as she turned and their eyes met. What he didn’t know was that for those brief seconds her world was suspended too.
“Shit! He saw me look over there!” She hissed as she whipped her head back around to Trina who found this situation all too amusing.
“You’re fine!” Trina said with a laugh, as she downed the last of her drink. “You wore the jacket. He’s going to get the hint.”
“Tree, what if he doesn’t come over here.” She asked a ting too whiny for Trina to handle.
“Don’t you dare go over there…” Trina responded as she started to walk away, in need of another drink if she was going to put up with this crap all night.
“Wait! Where are you going!?” She asked suddenly paralyzed with fear that someone might start talking to her, and he would find someone more pretty or more interesting to talk to in the mean time.
“Seriously… go talk to someone, it’s not going to kill you to meet someone new. He’s not going to leave until he speaks to you. Trust me.” Trina said, as she walked backwards towards the bar. She was obviously done talking about it.
“Oh God… Oh God, oh God, oh God… Find a familiar face… Find a familiar face.” She thought, as she tried to look like she had her shit together. “Maybe I can steal another glance at him… Maybe I should get a drink with Trina to loosen up.” She turned towards the bar, becoming aware that she had just turned a full circle and that if he was watching she was going to look like a total idiot. Thankfully at some point she had subconsciously pulled her phone out, so she looked down and acted like she was texting someone, giving her time to collect her thoughts. “I can’t get a drink with Tree, because he doesn’t like it when I drink. … Okay okay okay. Here is what we are going to do: I’m going to grab a water. I’m going to find someone else I know. I’m going to dance. If he doesn’t talk to me tonight its fine. Everything is fine. He obviously doesn’t like me the way I like him anyway.”
It has been several months since I have updated posted anything, but I want to take some time aside and start sharing some creative pieces I have done over the last few months. Bare with me, and feel free to comment thoughts, and suggest topics for me to write on.
I never wanted to do it. I never created a plan. I just wouldn’t continue waking up.
I haven’t turned my computer on in over a month. So as I type, my computer dings. My computer is trying to catch up on all of the conversations I have had over the last month. The messages blur in front of my screen the way the memories of the last month flash in my mind.
I’m just trying to come back. It’s so hard. Last night I went out with friends the way I normally would, and it felt so strange. I became overtly aware of the paradigm shifts that have occurred in the last month.
I’m aware that it has been two months since I have updated on here, but truth be told, I didn’t realize it had been that long until I saw the date.
I want to be aware of what is happening in the world. I also want to hide under a rock and not handle social situations.
A few months ago I wrote, “Do you ever feel like you are losing all grips on reality? Like you can’t keep up with the days, and a minute blends into a month, and a month turns into three.” These words should have been the point where I realized how sick I am. Yes, I used the word “sick”. I am sick. I was diagnosed with a disorder that tells me just that.
I’ve started several posts over the last two months, so I’m not sure if this one will actually make it to the end.
I didn’t get much sleep yesterday, so today when I woke up and was ignoring how I felt, I thought it would pass. I went out with my parents to celebrate my birthday, and came home. I watched Netflix, talked to my roommate, and then I tried to write this post. An hour of unsuccessful focus and many computer issues later I decided to take a nap. I’ve found that I have a tendency to fall asleep when I can’t focus on things the way I want to. Anyway, I woke up and then ate with my small group. All the while struggling to stay present – to feel everything going on.
I went to the roof of the church and watch fireworks, and a few times I struggled very hard to keep myself on that roof instead of going home. I was safe and I was keeping that in mind. I lit some sparklers with a few people that wanted to hang around a bit after the majority left. A security guard drove up and made sure we weren’t vandelizing the church. Something that in the past would have immediately sent me into a frenzy. I was fine. I was safe.
So why is it that as soon as it starts raining I start having flashbacks? Why am I having issues now? I’m aware that I have had irrational thought processes over the last few weeks, but nothing like I was before I went to the hospital. Why is it that as I’m laying in bed trying to sleep I feel so unsafe? The power went out and then came back on, but all I can thing about is being stuck in the dark as it rains. Why am I laying here in the fetal position crying?
For about six years I really enjoyed the rain. I remember the first time it rained when I lived in Arkansas. I was in science class sixth period, and the teacher said, “Macy, you have seen rain before, pay attention.” She didn’t know it had been so long since I had seen rain. I was okay with rain until I found myself sleeping in a house that consistered of two air mattresses, a tv, two chairs, a mini fridge, and three wardrobe boxes of clothes. The sounds wouldn’t have been so bad had the two empty lots next to us had houses on them.
It hard for me to remember that that was five years ago.
I wanted to be okay today. I tried to fight everything coming on. Unfortunately here I am still awake. I made mac and cheese (allergy friendly, so not I’m not harming myself) to try to be okay. Parts just really needed that… and Tang. I made some Tang.
I have therapy in seven hours. I have to be awake in six hours. I have to be at work in twelve hours. I need sleep.
Lord, please help me sleep.
One day I’m okay. The next day I can’t see straight. One day I know who I am, and the next I am searching for who that person was. What’s scary is that I have been able to convince myself for so long that this is all normal.
For a long time I thought I was just trying to get used to my new job. I was just trying to adjust to my grandfather passing. I was just adjusting to the state of disarray my family is in.
Because before that it was just adjusting to school. I was just adjusting to living on my own. I was just adjusting to a horrible breakup.
Before that, I was adjusting to a concussion. Adjusting to a renewed walk with the Lord. Adjusting to graduating college. Trying to figure out where to go to school. Making sure I would get all of my credits to graduate. Adjusting to mom working again. Getting over broken and lost friendships. Mourning Stella’s death.
And before that it was adjusting to Texas. I was just mourning the death of Keith. I was just getting over selling the coffee shop.
It goes back and back and back and doesn’t stop. Because the bottom line is: this isn’t healthy, and it’s not normal.
As I was typing each of those things it was like living someone else’s life. Those all happened to me, but I don’t feel like I own those memories. If I was any less stable, I would probably be able to convince myself that those memories were planted in my brain and that I actually don’t own them.
It’s raining outside. My roommate hasn’t made it home yet, so of course I am freaking out… Only on a few occasions have I felt comfortable when it rains, since December.
I have such a strange response to light and sound. It just sets me off.
Here I sit with tears streaming down my face. I am reminded why I went into autopilot, and wishing I could go back. I don’t want to be here anymore. I could sleep last night because I could not stop trying to plan where to go next. I remember the moment I knew I was suppose to be here…
I just can’t do this anymore. I’m to tired to fight anymore.
There is this thing that happens when you lose enough people in your life. You see someone look at the empty body of someone they previously loved, and acknowledge that they will never come back, and you know how it feels. A thing that happens when you start to allow yourself to feel every emotion you possess. You stop caring about how it effects others. A thing that happens when you allow yourself to be spontaneous and truly live your life. … And then there’s this thing that happens, when you stop trying to remember ever peice of your life.
I don’t remember January. I don’t remember February. I don’t remember March. I remember March a year ago. I remember March two years age. I remember March three, four, and five years ago. I don’t remember March this year.
I don’t remember when I stopped trying to love people. I am balancing on a line between keeping up appropriate boundaries, and not letting anyone in at all. I am refining: who I am, who I trust, my goals, how I make decisions, how I spend my time. I’m not so broken anymore. I’m on the mends… because I am taking time to be alone with myself.