When trapped, water finds a way, and makes a new path …..
I never go back and read what I wrote because once I get it out, I don’t want to think about it ever again. (It’s hard enough experiencing it the first time.) But because I haven’t been able to write, everything is wild-intense. It was literally right this moment that I realized my niece’s birthday is coming up yet again. Not because I don’t remember it, but because time doesn’t exist for me the way it exists for everyone else. Time moves all over the place, and never in predictable order.
I’m hurting. And I’m sick of it.
I’m so tired emotionally, and feel absolutely drained.
I can’t keep everything I feel inside, and at the same time, I don’t know how to get it out. I used to write, now I only have the strength to sit and cry. Never in front of anyone of course, only alone, hiding like it’s something I should be ashamed of.
I don’t know when I last wrote, I didn’t want to look. I don’t want to see how much time has disappeared from me. I don’t want to know how many days I felt anxious, and angry, and furious, and sad. Lost in despair. It quite literally makes me feel dizzy. It’s hard to catch my breath. It’s hard to just get up and keep going when I am feeling so suffocated and trapped.
I told my future husband, and love of my life, that I’m sorry to give him such a fragile and broken person. I hate that I come to him in pieces. It makes me love him a million times more because he is so mindful of my broken heart. He understands that I require patience. He knows that sometimes I say the wrong thing, and it’s because my emotions and reactions are endlessly thrown in a blender on high. He knows that I smile, but so often just want to hold my face in my hands and cry. He is my solid center, in a world that spins out of control crazy.
I feel like I need to talk about this, and I need to talk about this with my niece. No fake parents, no Letty, no lawyers, no judges, no court appointed monitor. And the day is coming. Faster and faster, and soon will be here. I am looking forward to the release, when I finally get to set the record straight. When auntie and niece can put on music, get in the kitchen, hook up some eats, and laugh and catch up. I have only ever wanted the simplest things with her, only restricted by paperwork drafted by a combination of garbage and selfishness.
I’ve said it so many times before. I want off this ride. I don’t want to carry this around with me, not for another day. I don’t want to wake up with tears dried across my face any more, I don’t want to have to sit and pray in agony.
All this time later, and still none of it makes sense, but one thing I can say with certainty, is that my rider’s love is taking my pain away. I feel like God gave me him so I would be able to land safely in loving arms while I wait for Him to work ….
In the middle of all this ugly, God keeps reminding me that love is every thing, and in the end, all will be right and beautiful ….
I daydream about our life together, because I love you.
I stay stuck on hope, because I love you.
I cling to dreams, because I love you.
I pray for you with trembling hands and tears falling down my face, because I love you.
I keep you with me always, because I love you.
You’ve changed me through-and-through, all because I love you ….
Tonight, for the first time in about ten or eleven years, my mother finds all of her children under one roof.
Thank you, Heavenly Father, for not forgetting about us ….
This hurts so bad, I can’t sleep.
My mind has been racing all day.
My heart feels heavy , and unforgiving.
It’s a constant feeling of how-do-I-get-through-this.
I want this over, and I want this right.
I’ve never felt so helpless, or anxious.
I close my eyes and just think … stop….stop…stop…. I don’t want it like this.
I want to fix it, and can’t, and that makes it hard to even breathe.
I can’t even sleep in the quiet, because it’s just too loud.
When grief gets a grip on you, it doesn’t let go.
It crushes you.
All you can do, is beg God to make it go away.
If you want to truly know me, read what I write.
Paper is the only thing I trust enough to pour the truth on ….