I'll be honest, the constant feel of battle is tiresome. While I am not looking forward to the culmination point at the end of this month, I am glad that some sort of foundation will at least have to be laid. Although where that foundation will lead us, I have no idea. What will be built upon it, I have no idea. The builders are not exactly in agreeance at this moment in time so I'm just praying we can make it something beautiful in the long run, once you've tired of pulling out all the nails and boarding up all the doors and windows.
It's hard to love someone and watch them hurting. It's hard to love someone while they're hurting you. It's hard to love someone while they hurt themselves by hurting you when you try to help them stop hurting. Ugh. I'm glad I got over the need to fortify myself in anger. It's a wretched place to be. I'd rather get angry (and I do, oh I most definitely do get angry) and acknowledge my anger and address my anger and then let it go. Black balloons, I once likened them to. Black balloons that I release into the sky so that I can watch them rise and feel the weight leave me. Anger is so heavy. You know the swamps of sadness scene in the Neverending Story? That's where I feel I'm at right now, except I'm the one holding onto the rains and yelling THINK OF SOMETHING HAPPY DAMMIT.
Think of something happy. Damn it. It's not that hard. I remember every happy thing. I hoard them like jewels in a treasure chest.
Things I am grateful I have experienced in my life:
The feeling of my babies growing inside me; even though it was anxiety inducing, it was a goddamn overwhelming miracle each time.
All the times I've ever kissed my husband. Best kisses ever.
Every time the wind has slithered softly over my skin on the hottest summer day at the perfect time to cool me down so I could remain outside.
It's hard to love someone and watch them hurting. It's hard to love someone while they're hurting you. It's hard to love someone while they hurt themselves by hurting you when you try to help them stop hurting. Ugh. I'm glad I got over the need to fortify myself in anger. It's a wretched place to be. I'd rather get angry (and I do, oh I most definitely do get angry) and acknowledge my anger and address my anger and then let it go. Black balloons, I once likened them to. Black balloons that I release into the sky so that I can watch them rise and feel the weight leave me. Anger is so heavy. You know the swamps of sadness scene in the Neverending Story? That's where I feel I'm at right now, except I'm the one holding onto the rains and yelling THINK OF SOMETHING HAPPY DAMMIT.
Think of something happy. Damn it. It's not that hard. I remember every happy thing. I hoard them like jewels in a treasure chest.
Things I am grateful I have experienced in my life:
The feeling of my babies growing inside me; even though it was anxiety inducing, it was a goddamn overwhelming miracle each time.
All the times I've ever kissed my husband. Best kisses ever.
Every time the wind has slithered softly over my skin on the hottest summer day at the perfect time to cool me down so I could remain outside.
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