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Easter
OK, I’m crying in McDonalds. Again. This is alarming. I went for years without crying and now it seems like I cry every day. This is not good because it means that my shot of emotional Novocain is wearing off. I gotta get another one, because upcoming events will sure as hell require it. I’m really anxious now too, so something has shifted. I don’t know if it’s chemical or emotional or both, but it’s closing in. I’m so afraid all the time.
So Easter is this weekend. We used to do big dinners on holidays at my parent’s house, with David and Steph and the kids and me and Eddie and whoever – Chuck, Joe, etc. I’m so sad, because that was what I wanted, a family, holiday gatherings, etc. It’s so lonely and empty. I’m worried about Eddie all the time and I feel like such a failure. My friends here all seem to have family stuff, especially Ro, but of course they drive her nuts. Nothing is perfect. I just feel so empty. As usual. Ron has a family but now he’s got cancer and the kids have both moved away. It can always be worse. That’s what I’m afraid of. All day, every day. I saw a book today by Joyce Meyer and she talked about dread. I’ve never seen that addressed before, but that sure is me. I dread just about everything and it sucks the joy out of living. She really does get it most of the time, but she’s so “Satan” minded, it drives me crazy. She said in one book that anxiety can make us sinners, because we turn away from faith in God. Nope, not buying it. I’m worried about Bette Ann, don’t get what’s really happening other than the fact that it’s awful.
04/18/17
Let’s face it. I’m crying in McDonald’s again, and it’s because my heart is broken. It’s just that simple, and that hard. I’m embarrassed by it, because other people have had and are having worse things happen but BULLSHIT – no they haven’t. My heart is broken because of my part in what happened to someone else. The person I love the most in this fucking mess of a world. I go to therapy, I take medication, I try and try to get past it. I’ve wasted my whole life trying to buck up, but I can’t do it. I’m broken and there’s just no fixing me. It’s what’s wrong with me. It was all I wanted and my one shot at it failed. Then I made it worse. I’ve wasted my entire life and I don’t’ know what to do now. I need to try and help someone else and turn my mind away from myself. I’m stalled out and I don’t know how to make myself move.
06/12/17
I’m sitting in McDonalds. Crying again. I don’t understand anything. Why won’t You help Eddie get a job, get launched in the world? I feel like I’m not doing enough, whatever that would look like. I’m marinating in anxiety, not functioning very well. I punched myself in the face the other day, as I’ve mentioned. I just don’t know how to change this. I just don’t know. I feel the silence and it echoes down the hallways of my empty soul. I don’t know of any way to make it stop.
Being Born
Cautiously, she flicked the first domino of her thoughts and watched as they all began to tumble down, one by one and ever faster, cascading backward in time until the final memory landed on the table of her mind with a soft thump. It lay there for a moment, silent and unguarded, and then the beginning of her life on this earth began to play out before her. Unspooling in her mind’s eye, she witnessed her soul as it approached the too-small, mottled confines of the body. The one that would be hers.
The softly glowing sphere of energy, her essence, slid into the inert form with surprising speed and force. It was uncomfortable, too tight somehow. She longed to change her mind, and reverse the trajectory of her arrival. This tiny body couldn’t seem to contain her lifeforce, and it was nothing like she’d thought it would be. How could she ever feel at home in this place, trapped inside this imperfect shell? Fear imprinted itself upon her, and she knew even then that it would be her constant companion. As long as she lived in this body, continued on this path, her soul would be a prisoner. She was stuck - committed to living out the choices she’d thought through so carefully before being caught up in this snare of Earthly time.
Her arrival was over three weeks early. Not a huge amount of time on the prematurity scale, but the uneasy, edgy energy surrounding her arrival was enough to unsettle her, and she really didn’t want to be there. Not yet. Not like this, and maybe not ever. Confusion overcame her and she began to struggle. A bright light suddenly manifested itself behind her, harsh and glaring, and unfamiliar sounds assaulted; one seemed to be coming from the – from HER – body. A wail, high pitched and lonesome, that continued in spite of others’ efforts to soothe. She found herself gently placed upon another being, larger and warm to the touch. Another sound, strange yet familiar, enfolded her and tentatively she felt herself bathed in light, shining from hazy blue eyes. A soul; one she knew. From Before. This was the reason she came, she supposed. A feeling of being known settled in, displacing some but not all of the uneasiness and fear. Lessons to be learned. That’s why she was here, until she could someday slip away and go back Home.
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