I am not sure if I have not been able to write, not wanted to write or just being a hermit lost in the darkness of winter devoid of any feeling but malaise. I will admit, my words are a bit dramatic but they are a good blanket for the bed I have been laying in the past few months. There have been snippets of joy but they have been snippets. A fitting word, snippets, as it sounds small and choppy.
I find myself doom scrolling more than I would like, aimlessly not retaining anything that comes by. Seeking some magic time machine that will transport me to the other side of that which looms in my future. I want a guarantee that I will be ok. There is no guarantee and there is no time machine. Time passes one second at a time as it always has.
My mind is an oddly blank room. I don’t have the ability to plan, or I am afraid to plan for anything in my future. I am tired of the rug being pulled out from under my feet. I have ideas but I hesitate because what if … what if what? I don’t even know but the door is locked to the blank room and nothing can be moved in at this time. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I hate waiting.
I just watched Andrea Gibson on Instagram recite a poem in response to the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. The poem was from the perspective of the one being dumped. I have not felt the full spectrum of my feelings in the past couple of years and this one got me. “I’m a good book to read but you left me closed. Check my margins you left no notes. What kind of person only dog ears the cover.” I listened to this and tears turned into sobs then receded back to the oddly blank room.
As I sit here to write this my inner critic tells me I should be writing something uplifting and inspiring. I should talk about how I wear the “Warrior” socks almost every day that Dena in Portland sent me in a lovely care package. Or how lucky I am to work with such an amazing group of humans at my job. Or about what a blessing my cackle of ladies are in my life. All that is true and so is the shadow. The shadow that is following me everyday right now and it makes it hard to breathe.
I am doing the work. I am taking the steps and damn it – I need to be ok. I have so much more life in me. I am not done yet. I am not done yet. I am not done yet I tell you! Fucking listen to me! I am not done yet!
I want to know what it feels like to be truly loved. I want to travel to northern Scotland. I want to hike across Ireland. I want to inspire people with my words as a storyteller. I want to play with my grandchildren or someone’s grandchildren. I want to be the nutty great aunt. I want to… I want to… I want to… on and on.
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