Sometimes

Sometimes I pull the blinds, turn the lights off and light a candle. I'm just too groggy to face the daylight.

Sometimes I put the mask back on. I take it right back off though. It's too heavy for me now.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to let my walls crumble. Then I remember, and close them up tight.

Sometimes I think I feel too much. I don't mind.

Sometimes I catch myself humming. I wonder if anyone can hear me. I hope I'm not tone-deaf.

Sometimes I fall asleep sitting up, with my knitting still in my hands. The sound of the breeze through the palm trees is soothing.

Sometimes I smile at myself in the mirror, just to make sure I still remember how. I do, but it's not great.

Sometimes I know what I'm doing.

Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I try to be sensible, but no one listens.

Sometimes I speak nonsense, and suddenly everyone's listening. And judging.

Sometimes I think I'm being myself. Then I realize I'm only mimicking someone else.

Sometimes I really am just myself. Most people ignore it and continue on like it's still the past.

Sometimes I feel like a child. Everything frightens me, and I just want to hide.

Sometimes I do hide. After a while, life doesn't seem so scary and I crawl out of my hiding place.

Sometimes I really want to laugh but can't find anything funny. I laugh anyway.

Sometimes I feel the weight of all my insecurities. I don't mean to be a pest.

Sometimes I don't mind that I'm as much of a child as I am inside. I wish more people could know it.

And sometimes, even if it does seem childish, I just really, really want to be held.

Right now, I want to offer the world a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies. I am happy.

Lynx

I'm Torn

On one hand, I'm so exhausted that I just want to be alone. I'm to tired to think about anything, let alone the habits of the people around me. I can't read minds at the best of times, let alone when I can almost keep my eyes open. I'm tired of trying to be "the leader" and initiate interaction. It's not my forte anyway, but now I feel like I'd just be a pest. What's more is I'm too tired to state that plainly. I don't have the energy for any kind of confrontation.

And then I just want to be allowed to lay down for a second and let someone else "be the leader." Let someone else start the conversations. Let someone else do the thinking. In that way, I don't want to be alone at all. I don't even know if I make sense right now, I'm so tired.

I've done basically nothing but sleep all day, and I feel, honestly, like I've been hit with something very heavy. The fibromyalgia is flaring up on me and kicking my ass. Everything's foggy, and I can almost make sense of my thoughts. This is the third time I've started this post, and I STILL don't know what I'm trying to say.

Two thoughts.

"Even when I win, I lose."
"Life is not a box of chocolates. Life is an endless game of whack-a-mole."

This Day

It wasn't a good one. Still isn't. I've made my choices, and I stand by them. But... All I can think of now is how many of my past choices have lead to the pain of others. I carry a lot of guilt. Maybe I deserve it, maybe I don't. But I carry it regardless. I've accepted it all; these things I was and am, at least in part, responsible for. I tell the truth when I say I've accepted it, but I lie when I say I've moved past it.

I haven't. I can't.

The more good things I remember about my father,the more I understand about the man he was and the man he became, the easier it is to forgive him. But forgiving myself? That is nearly impossible at this point. They say hindsight is 20/20, and they're certainly right. I have so much regret. I said so many awful things. I allowed myself to be blinded by my negative feelings and things spiraled out of control. He's gone now. And that's my fault. Yes, there was his failing health, and yes, he chose to stop taking his medications. But that was my fault too. If I'd been a better daughter, maybe he would've had something to hold on for. Maybe he would have fought. Maybe he'd still be here. How many people did I rob? How many good moments will never happen now, because of me? And what right do I have to move past it? I shouldn't. What I did, what I said...Who I was. It was all horrible. Selfish, and shortsighted. I was so afraid to be vulnerable, and that fear ended up destroying everything around me.

What happened to my mother is my fault as well. Directly. I should have watched her more carefully. I should have kept myself in better control. This time, I was vulnerable, and I let it show. And the vulnerability nearly destroyed my world further. It was sheer luck that my mother survived. It was my fault she was endangered in the first place. I'll probably never be able to forgive myself and move past that, either.

And now... Now she's wondering if she made the right decision to move. I don't know what to say, or what to do. Her depression is coming back, and coming back strongly.

I'd be a fool if I said that mine wasn't returning in some form as well. I'll never say it beyond here though. I can't. The people around me, what precious few I have, need me to be strong, not vulnerable. But I know I can't just not feel either; that doesn't work. I need to make a decision, and once again, I don't know what's right.

The guilt over what happened, and the indecision and fear over what could...  It's enough to make me feel physically sick. I'm so tired lately. Everything's sore and achy, and I feel ill. I sleep for too long, but I don't rest. I get terrible headaches and my whole being just hurts. I want to just look away, even for a few moments, but I could never do that. I owe too many too much.
I'd hope for someone to lean on, but my burdens are too heavy. These things shouldn't be shared between people; it's dangerous. Besides that, I don't know how to rely on others, I don't know how to ask for help or even comfort. My guilt won't let me be comforted anyway. All of what I feel now is a direct product of my past actions. I don't deserve to be comforted. I have to handle whatever's on its way on my own. It's always been like that. It's the only way I know how to protect the people I care about.

So if I pull away for a time, if I put my walls back up and hide away... It's not because I don't care or don't want to spend time with my dear ones. It's the opposite. I hate doing it, but it's the only way I know how to protect them from what I feel. I don't want to drag anyone else into my troubles, I don't want anyone else to try to help bear my guilt. It's too much to put on people who don't deserve it.

I'll get through it. I always do. But I can't take anyone with me for fear of losing them along the way. I can face myself and my guilt, and I can get my mother back on the right path, but I'll have to do it alone. It's the only way I can be honest with myself. If there was someone else there, I'd never be able to take these walls down, and I'll end up exactly where I started all those years ago.

I'm ready. It'll be okay. I know what needs to be done, and I know I can do it. I won't let things fall apart a second time. No one's breaking. No one's dying. There won't be anything to be guilty for. It'll be okay.

"There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief."
                                                                                          --Aeschylus

Lynx