I was awakened this morning from a deep sleep. I was dreaming of the ocean, smelling the salty air, walking hand in hand with someone I love. But the abrupt and persistent pain in my lower gut awakened me, reminding me that those days have passed. That the reality my situation limits my movements and any dream of silent walks and being able to be alone are long gone. I’m trying to not be bitter about the situation. Telling myself, “That it is what it is”. But the words only echo through my mind reminding me that my mind, body, and soul that are trapped in this circumstance.
I tell myself to be patient. But patience becomes a convenient term my for time spent in hell. I’m mad. Not only at my circumstance, but also at myself. It is said that ignorance is no excuse for the law. And yet, I continued to kill myself with a thousand tiny cuts. Knowing damn well I’d have to eventually pay the toll, much like my parents did. It’s bitterness and anger that fuel this tale. It’s honesty and a sense of failure that fan the flames. I will never cure myself with just the few words typed on this screen. It took me years to get here, and it will take me years more to get out.
Life, happiness, sadness, anger, and fear all roll like an ocean tide. And right now, the tides pretty damn low. Not so much because I’m thinking of my own suffering. But because I’m watching someone I love suffer as well. Letting go of perceived responsibilities is never easy. But the grace I grant those I love; is the very thing I have to grant myself. Frustration and limitations are all just a part of growing old. Acceptance and understanding are things you and I must embrace, in order to recover and live again.
I tell myself to be patient. But patience becomes a convenient term my for time spent in hell. I’m mad. Not only at my circumstance, but also at myself. It is said that ignorance is no excuse for the law. And yet, I continued to kill myself with a thousand tiny cuts. Knowing damn well I’d have to eventually pay the toll, much like my parents did. It’s bitterness and anger that fuel this tale. It’s honesty and a sense of failure that fan the flames. I will never cure myself with just the few words typed on this screen. It took me years to get here, and it will take me years more to get out.
Life, happiness, sadness, anger, and fear all roll like an ocean tide. And right now, the tides pretty damn low. Not so much because I’m thinking of my own suffering. But because I’m watching someone I love suffer as well. Letting go of perceived responsibilities is never easy. But the grace I grant those I love; is the very thing I have to grant myself. Frustration and limitations are all just a part of growing old. Acceptance and understanding are things you and I must embrace, in order to recover and live again.
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