Yet another
big change. New job for Robin. After 32 years of his own
business, he is now working for someone else. Punching
a time clock, working seconds, packing a dinner, trying
to acclimate.
We somehow had it in our heads that at 55 (his age), he'd
be thinking about how he would keep the business going
for another 6 years and then retire. But it has not worked
out that way.
I realize now that I can't come here and write anything about us.
It feels like betrayal. I suppose there are just some things
that must live inside you until you no longer live. Things others
will never know.
I want someone to know about what it is I am and feel. But I can't
do that--let anyone in. I shall go to my grave with what needs to be
said. Maybe.
I must think there is something special about what it is that is happening
to me and has happened or I would not feel so pulled.
But I am just too fucking tired to do anything about it tonight.
Damn.
Give up or give in or go nuts.
2 comments:
Well, I've basically lived my whole life up to this point that way, holding most of what I feel and think inside, mainly because that's how I was raised--keep your private life to yourself--but, I don't know. Lately, I feel like sometimes, everyone needs an outlet somewhere, a place, a person, a save haven where you can unhinge, let all the ugly and awful, all the anger and pain, all the real and impolite and totally honest feelings and issues you're suffering through alone, out. Talk therapy is so out of vogue these days. Folks and they're physicians are too convinced that popping a pill, the right pill, will solve all their problems. I think the 9 months of therapy I had when I was 19 were maybe the best 9 months of my life in terms of emotional honesty, if only because I could sit down for an hour weekly and cry or rage or say little or nothing while this wonderful woman who wasn't going to run out into the world and blab all my secrets, would listen, would urge, would encourage me.
Maggie, I can't help you with what you're going through. I've got enough contained anger and sadness inside me right now that's it's like an acid that's disintegrating my soul. I can tell you that even though we've never met face to face, that I feel like we're friends, and that I'm here for you. Really, I guess what I should say is that I'm here WITH you. You're not alone, kiddo. I think we're all struggling and suffering. If it helps, say the serenty prayer to yourself when things feel totally insurmountable. This life thing ain't for sissies, is it? (smile)
Laurel,
I sit here tonight thinking about my life.
I will be 52 this Thursday.
I wonder
I wonder about so many things. About so much of what I have done, who I have been, where I have been, what I am doing.
Somewhere along the way, I thought I would know me enough by now to not wonder so much about that.
I thought I would just be allowed to wonder.
Regrets are many. Joy to be found in the blessings of my children and grandchild.
But this enormous weight of being without being weighs me down. So heavy some days I find myself unsure if I'll make it through.
Through what? Through to the other side? If there is one, I will get there. If there is not, why the weight? Why the worry?
I feel we understand one another well. I have always welcomed your thoughts, your words, your insight.
I think I have anger, but it is so buried in guilt that I can't let it be a force that would serve me well,perhaps. Righteous anger. If there is such a thing.
But tall of the unsaids would serve no purpose at this point. I don't even feel an inclination to let them out as they are so much resigned to ashes at this point, which I must say is rather frightening.
Some days I feel I have given up.
That is so terrifying.
I am the most alive when I wake from my sleep, from a dream or thought. But then I realize how very tired I am and I just let go the vibe and pray for rest.
I keep thiking, when I come "through," I will be ok.
Always the through. As if I am not doing the through every single day.
Stay with me, Laurel. I think I have some things to say when the levee breaks.
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