Fear

I live in fear of everything and it is no way to live. Is it living, or surviving? 

Today I say the words: 

“I will NOT live in fear!”

Pray the feeling lasts longer than breakfast 

Insert Charlie Brown reference here as he sits before Lucy

Fear, please set me free

Is this what Almost Over feels like?

He comes over and I chatter away nonstop 

He makes himself comfortable and the dogs greet him with a luxury of kisses

I suggest dinner and a movie, as we had planned but he says that he is not hungry but that I should order

He mentions money, that he needs to watch his – I do not need to watch mine. I attempt to diffuse any concern but can hear the wind steal my words.

He smokes in the bathroom, the “allowed spot” as it is raining outside. He spends too much time up and down between the sofa and the bathroom.

We have good conversation. Meaningful positive talk about family and emotions but remain distant. 

Distant both physically and emotionally.

I order in dinner and he spoons out some peanut butter. The dogs begin to eat and I believe that things are calm.

Before my food can arrive he requests that I call an Uber car for him to go back to his parent’s house. 

I ask that he please wait for my food to arrive, that he need not sit with me, and he begrudgedly agrees.

I smile and order his car, pretending that there is no problem. 

He tells me:

• that he is worried about his father’s health.

• that he is worried about his health

• that he is afraid that if he stays any longer he will screw things up

Then he tells me how he’s certain that I will hold this against him later; I smile (holding back my true feelings) and tell him that everything is fine.

I wonder what he thinks…

Are we married for convenience? 

A failsafe for when his parents pass away? 

Does he even feel anything romantic towards me? 

Is this what ALMOST OVER feels like? 

When neither of us has the nerve to say: “Let’s be best friends?“.

Terminal Grief

I have never been cured of my terminal grief

Each time that I believe that there is any chance, life kicks me in the teeth. 

I will never get over the loss of my father.

I will never get over the loss of my sister, Faith.

And now I add that I will never get over the loss of my fake family. 

I’ve been fooled and betrayed, the pain cuts through my soul. I should have know better, my father warned me and I failed to listen.

My failures add up so high that the sun is no longer visible from where I sit. 

My two sweet dogs keep me together when I drop to my knees. 

Meanwhile, my estranged husband works on my emotions day and night, never allowing me any time to heal.

Terminal grief does not kill, it is not lethal. 

It simply leaves you hollow and wondering for the rest of your days.

Another Day – Hiding

The heat is oppressive and so I’ve chosen to hide today. 

I am only leaving the house to walk my dogs. The walks are short as the “real feel” tops almost 100 degrees and the humidity makes it difficult to breathe.

I am a bit less lonely today, not to say that it is much of an improvement. 

The husband continues to call and I dodge about a third of his calls. He’s not pleased that I refuse to see him today but I need to stand by my words. 

It’s important that I set some boundaries. Every other day is more than enough, in fact, it is MORE than I should be seeing him. He is not getting well and I am not crawling out of this endless pit of depression. 

We need to work on our own problems on our own before we can fix what is left of our relationship. 

Speaking into an empty well. 

Screaming into the wind.

Wishing that my words could be heard.

The world is deaf!

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Did you expect this to happen, for this to be my future? Certainly you could not have predicted that your family would have left me as well. Did you believe that I was really as strong as I pretended? I am not.

It is just me and my dogs now. Everyone else is an illusion, they will pretend for only so long as they need my assistance with him. They will act the part long enough to ease their lingering guilt. But in the end, I am alone.

I always believed, because you told me, that I was strong enough to be all alone. That I was a loner – but no, it was because I had you. 

Now I don’t have you. It’s just me and my dogs. Where are you? You promised! I love you and I trusted you. At fifty, such a child still.

Wherever you are please watch over me and make me strong – I need you and love you.

Always your daughter…

I Can’t Sleep

It’s the deep middle of the night and my mind is at full speed despite all of the medication. 

Do I take more little pills, feed the problem or suffer, unable to keep the wheels still? 

On the sofa with my dogs, my bed is not a comfort, the television is white noise. 

Questions pour from my brain that have no answers. My monsters and demons taunt me at nearly 5:00am. 

I haven’t the concentration to read, or connect to anything other than my spinning thoughts. 

I can’t sleep, cursing the coming dawn.

Here It Comes…

Here it comes…

I can feel it in my bones as the chill of anxiety builds. There are no correct answers no matter my response. His reaction cannot be measured or guessed, certainly not by me.

Here it comes…

Back at home he will find the walls closing in on him and his mood will change with the wind. The clocks will cease, leaving me to stare at their frozen hands and begging them to nudge. His words may be bitter or paranoid or accusatory.

Here it comes…

Nothing can stop the inevitable.