I wrote in my journal today. It was the first time in over a year since I had written anything. Coming out of depression is scary and amazing. Change is scary and amazing. Living is scary and amazing.
As I sat outside around the corner from my apartment writing outside the coffee shop, the sun warmed my skin in the cool air. It has been so long since I last wrote. I had so much to put down. Over 7 pages of the highs and lows of an entire year plus growing plans for this year flowed out. I doodle and ponder while listening to music as I write. It is therapy. One thing I have learned in my life is that you cannot hold everything inside. It will eat you alive. I have so much to do in a short time. Keeping anxiety at bay is a challenge but I am managing. Moving is stressful enough. Not having a job or a place to live is like walking a fine line next to a minefield. But I am going to make it. I am a very determined woman. I can do anything and mostly in my life, I have. When I set my mind to something it get’s done.
Next for me is jumpstarting my new old career in the arts and music. I wrote in my journal.
“I started off my adult life as an artist. A true tortured soul of an artist. I gave it up for 20 years to do what?”
What?… to learn I should have never given it up to make a lot of money. In the end I did make a lot of money, but it is all gone and it did not make me happy in the long run. It is time to change that. It is time to live for me for a change. I am going to do the things that make me happy. For that provides riches far greater than money. Dreams do come true for me. I make them happen. Maybe not all of them but I don’t give up easy on anything, even my endless pursuit of living a good life, self love and just being happy. I will succeed. I always do.
Build my life upon these dreams
Comforts and cozies fill my thoughts
Returning to a place familiar and warm
Memories of achievement and joy
Love, yes love felt and expressed
The lie roles off my tongue like marbles on hill
Expressed yes, but not love
Comforts are facades hiding what lies behind
Dreams are more easily dashed than delivered
My achievement is this empty shell
Medicated my heart beats at a safer pace
Medicated the knife never draws blood
Medicated sleep without dreaming is peace
Medicated darkness is not so cold
Medicated is no life to be wished on anyone
Suicidal thoughts, Can anything be more frightening
How do you take a life without the mess
How do you take a life without hurting everyone you love
I will not
Survival is a skill perfected by years of practice
Battles lost and won in my mind
The physical toll evidence in the lines on my face
The blanks stares, the tears and distant presence
The unseen damaged liver and once failed kidneys
Everything hurts some days, everything
The deepest pain is beyond human touch
Why do I keep fighting against this unwelcoming tied
I just do, a promise to myself and my loves
The hardest part of fighting the emptiness…
There is nothing there to take a swing at
I looked into the sun and sneezed as my eyes watered and my face felt warm deep into my skull. A 5 year old really does not know any better. Mom held my hand as I cried, blood still fresh on my arm and my clothes. The doctor tried to ease the pain, but the cut was deep to the bone. A 10 year old and a new pocket knife are the first of many hard lessons one can only learn and not be taught.
As I looked out over the ocean towards a distant horizon, I became smaller as the world grew in size around me. The sun set and darkness fell upon the moonless waters. My hands disappeared before me. Startled by unfamiliar sounds and the roar of crashing waves, I sought refuge and safety within. Eyes closed, only the wind leaves tactile traces of the outside world. A waking dream. Floating on the ocean in a boat of own my making. At thirty one only begins to comprehend the scope of the universe and her place on Earth.
The time in between is perceived in growing increments of ever faster moving time. At 48 I remember seeing that 5 year old standing on the side of the road, her gaze always upwards. I remember the sun, the blood and the pain, laughter, love, the open ocean 100 miles from shore and a lifetime of living with spectacular highs and crushing lows. I look back and see that little girl is me and she is still looking to the sky and out in to the distance as the journey unfolds.
Some wounds run too deep.
The sounds of cracking bones or the words of petty fools.
I cannot see the scars.
Time has washed them clear.
I cannot feel the shot.
The bullets have long since been removed.
When all I ever wanted was to run away.
Deep in the forests of my own thoughts.
Freedom from the antagonists.
Freedom from myself.
All I ever wanted was to be me.
Life was simpler back then.
Hide, stay low, avoid the common path.
The reward is pain.
Blend in the shadows.
The consequence is absence of pain.
Shadows are made of fear.
Year after year the jungle of pain and shadow.
Starving for something lost in my dreams.
Eating pain to give to the shadows.
Everything is living.
Except for me.
Back to old tricks.
The mirror holds truths for me to see each day.
Shadows in my eyes.
Old habits never die.
Dreams are just dreams.
No closer to being me.
Hiding from the pain.
It lives within me now.
So I do the only thing I know how.
The heart doth surely bleed and the soul shall weep it’s lonely death.
Life is a tear in the eyes of the universe.
If only one could see.
Let open your mind.
Your heart shall never die.
Do you know me
Can you claim to unfold my tattered edges
Bindings held together with stubborn lashings
Years upon years repaired
What stories faded in my pages
What comedy laughs in scattered chapters
What tragedy scores dog-eared corners
And then what too is unwritten
Between each line
Softly spoken tales of triumph
Between each word
A cry for help
Between every letter
The essence of me
I know myself to be
A cautious description engraved over time
A daring thriller scribbled in haste
An autobiographical masterpiece of emotion
Art in so few words
To read me is to turn each page
Pealing back the good with the bad
Blowing away the years of settled dust
Layers of sediment obscuring hidden verse
Long forgotten psalms
Better forgotten signs
And again I ask
Do you know me
Has light dimmed so much I cannot be read
Has the writing on the wall distracted you
From what lies behind my ragged cover
Have the words seen edits
No one can decipher
The challenge therefore is
To read the unwritten
To glean hope from the unknown
To consume every nuance
Live inside this shell
Keeper of my life
Lay me at your bedside to consume my every moment
Until the end
The very last word of the very last chapter
On the very last page
The story is my life
In a book with no end
Where there is courage to rise each day
The shadow of fear covers the path in darkness
Desire stands alone conscious in the obscure of night
Confidence the sacred jewel on a crown of hope
Where there is will
Where there is want of more each moment
The frozen grip of insecurity binds us in our place
Longing reins in the fears rooted in our minds
Strength the tireless companion standing at our side
Where there is courage
Where there is hunger for that outside our grasp
The walls of failure rise to obscure our way
Optimism casts its light on endless mazes
Determination an unstoppable force on the road of achievement
Where there is love
Where there is zest to live each waking moment
The pain of sadness cripples even the most able
Passion fuels the fire that warms our hearts
Love the the golden sunrise in the gift of life
Lover of life
Your story told in the lines of your face
The joy in your eyes
Lover of life
You see a world unknown to the caged
You run confident in to each day
Lover of life
The world around you vibrates with amazement
Everything old is still new
Lover of life
Friends agape in amazement every story told
Envy the silent companion in your shadow
Lover of life
Each sunrise the golden challis for your wine
Each sunset a joyous wake remembered
Lover of life
Infections warm and unhurried
Neither lead nor follow
Yours is a world of your own invention