Tuesday, July 28, 2015

2 YEARS AGO. I GUESS I WAS WAKING UP.

HARD TO BELIEVE I WROTE THIS POST ONE MONTH SHORT OF TWO YEARS AGO. IT SEEMS LIKE DECADES. EVEN HARDER TO BELIEVE THINGS GOT WORSE, TO LEVELS EVEN I COULD NOT IMAGE. YET I AM STILL BREATHING, FOR NOW.
THIS WAS ONLY MY 3RD POST ON THIS BLOG TOO. I'M SO SAD NOTHING HAS IMPROVED BUT RATHER WORSENED. I WOULDN'T HAVE BELIEVED I WOULD BE NEAR STARVING, ALONE AND COMPLETELY ISOLATED AS I AM OR THAT I WOULD HAVE EVER DROPPED OUT OF SCHOOL. OR THAT I WOULD GO ALMOST A YEAR WITHOUT SEEING EITHER OF MY KIDS OR THAT I WOULD SPEND 4 YEARS OF LOST CHRISTMAS', BIRTHDAYS AND LIFE EVENTS ALONE, WITHOUT THEM. OR THAT SO MANY FRIENDS AND FAMILY MEMBERS WOULD LET ME DOWN. AT LEAST I HAVE PROOF THAT I STILL HAD SOME SENSE OF HOPE BEFORE I BECAME THIS PERSON I AM NOW.
CHECK IT:

My life is a big fat piece of BITTERSWEET. Every positive comes with a negative, but the negatives always far outweigh the positives it seems. Very cruel, very unusual punishment for Gawd knows what, which leads to a whole new addition to the mind fuck. Why? You could truly drive yourself insane trying to figure out WHY. I know because I am right there in the eye of why.  A tornado of moments spinning around me in a fit of mass destruction and fury, beating me alive with its ferocity. I was bloody and done a year and a half ago, now I am just an echo trying to grasp something to keep me from vanishing completely. There isn't anything to grasp to though. What I do attempt to grab burns me, leaving new scars on top of the ones that have yet to begin to heal. I am down to bone and raw nerve now. No protection from the elements. Nothing to ease the glare. I feel everything to ninth degree. I see everything without goggles or veils. I hear the unspoken. There could be beauty in all this rawness in a better situation and it angers me to be wasting it because THIS is where I am. People don't get it. They think they do but it takes just moments of interaction to see how they don't. Life is levels. The deeper you go the more it hurts. The more raw it gets. The more misunderstood YOU get, Maybe this is why those who dig into these layers end up in monasteries or become monks. Eventually, you are just alone surrounded by people floating through a script they wrote but won't admit they can edit because it's too much work and it would mean getting ink on their hands. It becomes very disheartening. Disappointing. Sad. I feel like a ghost that people occasionally interact with but never really see as a whole being. I've pondered becoming a monk, but the idea of being even further in my own head petrifies me. It's scary in here most of the time.
I normally would bring up my kids when I talk about all this as they are THE reason for me, but for some reason(? new word) I feel like I should keep them somewhat disconnected from all this (posting) as they are too much perfection to treat like therapy, as this is what all this feels like. My version of therapy, most likely a subconscious attempt to prevent suicide. My soul's way of fighting without me knowing it still wants to. I will say this about my children and myself, they are AMAZING. I did that. I gave them everything I could that I didn't get and look at them. Simply the greatest most excellent piece of my fucked up life. Worth every nano second of shit I have lived. But, they are adults now with lives of there own, just as it should be and I forgot to take care of me so that when they did what they were meant to do, I should have been able to do what I was meant to do, but I have zero ideas on what that is and there is so much HERE to deal with that focusing one that seems impossible. I can't even dig that far down to touch myself at this point. I'm right over there>>> but I can't grasp me.
Sigh. I have homework. I need to try to focus on it. It used to come so easily to get lost in education but this semester it feels like quicksand. It feels like my entire life. A burden. Another thing to think about and worry about and try to do my best at but never feeling like I hit that level. It is the only financial support I have though, so I must put my head down and march for as long as I find I am capable.

Be well. Be real. Don't follow. Please. I beg of you to not follow the masses. It is tough to do but it is so much better to at least know you are real and if you can do it then others can as well, so you expect more of them and when you  see less you walk away. You just turn around and go, because you don't need that shit. You deserve more than a masked friend or mate. You deserve what you are willing to be and work for. It won't come fast. These people are rare. They are tough to find. Just hang in there if you can. As long as I am typing then you know you are not alone. <3
Posted by Michele Powell at 8/28/2013 03:23:00 PM 

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Speak... please! And thank you! I am still waiting for a comment. Anyone?? Crickets... figures.