There are days when I can't get comfortable. It's like a ghost pain that doesn't really hurt, per se, but I can feel it all the same. In my gut. Nothing specific, except that I don't feel like I belong in my skin. The thought occurs to me that I could throw up. Not because I feel sick but like something is stuck in my craw. Oh, now there's a thought that brought tears to my eyes. What is that about? Purging? I need to purge???
Sometimes I feel wild-eyed behind the passive personna that everyone knows me by. I'm stuck in the middle of what I need to do and what I want to do. How many of us can say that? Bizillions, I'm sure. Can we talk about it? No.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Only just discovered this second blog of yours.
Like you I tend to keep my other blog nice and positive and upbeat and talk about my son only in passing as if he's fine and dandy and college is suiting him, etc.
In reality we too have problems - with the same cause as yours - but I don't think I'm brave enough to share them yet. Perhaps one day. My only consolation is that things are a bit better than they were three years ago when he had to 'go away' for six months.
I just find it so frustrating that people we love and who we know to be good at heart can be twisted around the little finger of a drug.
In the meantime I shall follow your blog and keep my fingers crossed for you.
With Love
John
Thank you, and I'll do the same for you.
I think you're pretty brave for mentioning it at all.
I found this blog weeks ago and started to read--got interrupted and then forgot it. (I'm good like that) When you mentioned your second blog in a comment tonight my reaction was-- second blog? Which is really sad because I signed up to follow you here. Now I'm here reading and thinking how much connects the human race.
Post a Comment