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| inspired by "the hours" |
| 01.31.04 (3:28 pm) [edit] |
The child looks up at her
With expectation
And apprehension
Unspoken question between them
Do you love me?
Enough to give up your life? Your dreams?
To give up yourself?
She smiles her bravest smile
And comforts him
Reassures him
That's what mothers do.
While, deep inside herself, she screams--
Stop looking at me, stop questioning me
Stop [u]needing[/u] so much of me.
At work, her boss walks in
With expectations and demands.
Be productive. Be professional.
Be punctual. Don't complain. Just take care of it.
She's become so adept at "taking care" of things
It's what is expected of her now. The problem solver.
She bites her tongue.
And gives it her all.
At home, her lover walks in
Needing attention and affection
And acknowledgement
She gives this gladly
She needs this, too.
She visits her parents.
More expectations
Some expressed, some implied.
Don't disappoint us.
Don't be who you are.
Be what we want you to be.
Be what you [u]should[/u] be.
She gives so much of herself.
Almost forgetting that she has
Thoughts and feelings and ideas and goals
Apart from these people and these things.
She wonders how long she can
Continue to do this.
Sometimes she is exhausted by it.
Sometimes her life is overwhelming.
It leads her to dream
Of cashing in her retirement fund
Moving to Mexico
Sipping Marguaritas on the beach
Of peace and solitude
She wonders when there will be some relief.
When she will have something that is just for herself.
And, more importantly, how will her self survive
Until that time?
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| My lover |
| 01.29.04 (7:02 am) [edit] |
Thought that I'd be happy
Gonna be so happy
Living life alone
And never sharing anything
Thought that I was finished
Thought that I was complete
Thought that I was whole
Instead of being half of something
Thought that I was growing
Growing older, wiser
Understanding why this world
Held nothing for my spirit
Thought that I was destined
Destined to be nothing
Destined to be nothing in this world
And then I met you
I met you.........
--------------The Proclaimers
For a while, I had given up on love. I started to wonder if I was even capable of it. Not only did I doubt that anyone would love me that much; I wondered if [b]I [/b]could love someone that much. Maybe I was a cold person. Maybe my heart was hard. Maybe I was missing that thing we have in us that helps us really connect with another person. The thought wasn't even disturbing to me. I wasn't sad about it. That's just the way it is, I thought, the way I am. I certainly didn't think that there was someone I could spend my life with. Someone I could be with every day. I couldn't imagine feeling sure enough about a relationship to think it may really last. Then I met her. And I felt a flood of emotion. But also a calm certainty. No doubt. No fear. She is the one. She opened my eyes and my heart. I'm thankful every day for it. I just hope I always show it.
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| perspective |
| 01.26.04 (7:27 pm) [edit] |
A man said to the universe,
"Sir, I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
a sense of obligation."
--Stephen Crane
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| the rollercoaster |
| 01.23.04 (2:30 pm) [edit] |
The phone rings
"Hello?", I answer.
"Hey, I just wanted to see if the kids could come over"
Who [u]is[/u] this?
Is this a [u]joke[/u]?
What the hell?
Just like that.
Like he didn't simply disappear over a month ago
With no word since then.
Lost in a haze of cocaine euphoria.
Having spent Christmas in a crack house.
"What's going on?", I demand.
"Nothing", he says.
No explanations.
Not that I was listening at this point, anyway.
Here we are again.
The baby's daddy. The addict. The loser.
The rollercoaster.
How long will he stay straight this time?
A day? A week? A month?
Care to make a bet?
Didn't stay in rehab long, did he? A week, maybe?
Time for another talk with the kids, I guess
Up to me again to try to explain
What is not comprehensible, what does not make sense.
My heart beats faster.
I feel the blood rushing in my head.
Stomach in knots.
Hands shaking.
Tears in my eyes, not of sadness but of anger.
Needing to lash out.
To release.
Anger is powerful. Urgent. Scary, almost.
Trying to calm myself.
Is there no justice in the world?
Will he never have to pay
For his transgressions?
Face the consequences of his actions?
Be held accountable for his choices?
Anger gives way to resignation. Defeat.
Exhausted.
My pragmatic side takes over.
Why can't he just die?
OD on crack and go out in a rush?
I don't wish him pain.
Not at all.
But he's nothing but a burden. No, a heartache.
To everyone who knows him.
Including his family.
I don't think there is hope for him anymore.
He's crossed a line and will not likely come back.
Dying would be the most decent, the most selfless
Thing he has ever done.
But, I suppose he will just go on and on
lying and cheating and stealing and using and manipulating and breaking laws
And whatever else it may escalate into.
Leaving everyone in his path
Hurt and worried and broke and confused and afraid.
Afraid of where this is headed.
Afraid of what he'll do next.
Afraid this cycle will never end.
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| suffering |
| 01.23.04 (8:17 am) [edit] |
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Viktor Frankl, existential philosopher and hollocaust survivor, said that life is all about the search for meaning. And that suffering gives meaning to life. So that, every difficult thing that we live through makes us more enlightened and stronger and gives our lives more purpose and meaning..................
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| insomnia |
| 01.23.04 (7:00 am) [edit] |
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When I was younger, I never slept. Not because I couldn't but because I didn't want to. I pretty much thougt it was a waste of time. Even as a child, even on weekends, I never slept late. There were things to do! Why stay in bed half the day? How boring! Sleep was just something I had to do, a necessity. Not something to look forward to or to be enjoyed. So, somewhere along the way, sleep must have felt neglected and unappreciated. And it [u]left[/u] me. They say "you don't know what you've got till it's gone". I believe it. I miss sleep. I had no idea how much fun it was. How refreshing and sustaining. Or how miserable I would be without it. Now I spend nights tossing and turning and [u]thinking[/u]. That's the worst part. Will my brain [u]ever[/u] get a rest? So, so frustrating. Sometimes I feel a kind of panic about this and I have an urge to jump out of bed and run through the house as fast as I can. (But my kids already think I'm crazy, so I try to keep the bizarre behavior to a minimum. At home, anyway.) I try to entice sleep to come back sometimes, with drink, or pills, or sheer exhaustion. Once in a while it comes back for a visit, but just to tease me, then it vanishes again. Seems like the visits are fewer and further between, too, the older I get. Damn. I already feel like I haven't slept in years...............
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| for my sister |
| 01.22.04 (1:59 pm) [edit] |
Oh my God, I remember.............that day in the park? I don't know why we stopped there that day, either. We were just on a lunch break from work. We had never done that before and haven't since. It just seemed like the thing to do. I was surprised at first to see you sitting there. I knew you were hurt. You know, that sort of thing has happened more than once.
I remember when you were born, and since that time I have felt such responsibility for you. I helped to raise you; and you grew up to be my friend, my confidant, my comfort, my sister in every sense of the word. I love you, admire you, aspire to be like you. You have so much more potential for joy and self expression and creativity than I do. I have always wanted you close to me. You were the one who was with me during every difficult time in my life. Always supportive. You have helped me to survive. And though I don't always express it well, I am here for you, and I do feel your pain. I feel it now. I wish I knew something to say at this minute that would make things better, but I guess there is nothing that would. I just hope you know that I feel you and that I'm thinking of you now.
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| why |
| 01.22.04 (6:42 am) [edit] |
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Working with the Seriously Mentally Ill is always challenging, usually rewarding, and sometimes really entertaining. I was visiting a client in one of the State hospitals last year who had a habit of swallowing large inedible objects. I don't know if she did this for attention or if the voices told her to do it, but it can actually be dangerous. At the time I saw her she had just had yet another surgery to remove a toothbrush and a metal spoon from her stomach. (She showed me the scar). I was amazed. My first question was "How did you manage to swallow a spoon [u]and[/u] a toothbrush?" She looked at me competely serious and said "It was HARD!" Like it made perfect sense. Like she was telling me how she learned to speak Spanish or build a model airplane. Like she was proud that she was able to do it. I just said "I bet it was!", and left it at that. No need to ask why, really. I mean, how many of us ever really know why we do anything?????
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| soul mate |
| 01.21.04 (6:31 am) [edit] |
I saw you
Years ago
Across a crowded room, as they say
At some random conference
We both happened to attend
I thought "Who is that?"
I watched you for a minute
Quietly interacting with others
The redhead with the blue eyes
You didn't notice me
Why would you?
Straight-looking college girl
Looking self absorbed and indifferent
But in reality self conscious and intimidated
By a room full of professionals
Years later
You show up at the office
And are introduced as my new collegue
And as we started to talk and then flirt
And feel that connection
Like an electric current between us
I thought "I know her...how do I know her?"
And then it struck me
It was you
The redhead with the blue eyes
And then I understood
I realized what had happened
Years ago when I saw you
Something in me, even then,
Knew that you were the one
The one I need
The one who "gets" me
The one I love more than myself
The one I can't live without
The one I will spend my life with
The ONE
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| blah |
| 01.19.04 (2:19 pm) [edit] |
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Ugh........................The Monday blues. Happens every week. Why is it so hard to switch gears after the weekend? Maybe I should start the week with some antidepressants or alcohol or an orgasm or anything else that makes me happy and more pleasant to be around.......................................
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| The Loser |
| 01.19.04 (2:04 pm) [edit] |
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Sometimes I forget about him. Like he doesn't even exist. Every so often he just disappears. And, after a time, I go about my day taking the kids to school, going to work, picking them up, feeding and bathing them, and finally spending some time with my partner before going to bed; and none of us ever think of him. Forgetting that he's not so far away. He's somewhere close. High, desperate, craving, pathetic. Not ashamed to leave kids waiting for hours with their bags packed when he said "I'm on my way", to lose his job because he just stopped going to work, to steal from his parents. I must have felt something for him once. Funny. That was so long ago that now I can't imagine that I ever did. He can rot in jail or burn in hell for all I care. But...... he is my cross to bear. The punishment for all my sins. The bad karma generated by my reckless youth come back to bite me in the ass. No one ever impressed upon me this truth--"Be careful who you breed with. You're stuck with them forever." But, what did I know? I was just a child myself.
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| Anger |
| 01.18.04 (3:16 pm) [edit] |
I keep my Anger
Locked up tight
Sometimes I feel it
Welling up in my chest
Trying to escape and explode
and avenge and destroy
Once in a while
I peek in on it
Curious
Wondering what it might be
Capable of
If I unleashed it........
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