I often find myself just leaning back in my wicker rocker and staring at the sky, I don’t know what I’m looking for but the wide open space seems to release the stress in me. I love sitting there on a clear starlit night, fortunately I live in the country where it is very dark and the sky is beautiful.
I’ve found myself in myriad of emotions lately. One of which is depression, and I’ve never really experienced it as deeply as of late. I have tried to push it away and push it down, but I finally broke down and let myself cry yesterday. It wasn’t just a few tears and afterwards, hours later, I caught my reflection in the mirror and had to laugh. I looked like a bullfrog on steroids, my eyes were so swollen that when I went to sit outside I put sunglasses on, just so I wouldn’t be mistaken for an alien 🙂 .
I write out my feelings, consciously or unconsciously, there’s always a little truth to my poetry. I suppose I’ve used it for so long that it’s become a kind of fairytale diary. I live in my head a lot. I just wonder if too much of that kind of “living” can be damaging. I fear being emotional outside of that box. It wasn’t always like that for me, but it has calmed the outside, where people are who just wouldn’t understand or accept me the way I am.
I began as a young child writing out my feelings, escaping to my hiding place down by the river, paper and pen in hand. My home was never one of stability as far as emotion went. Not to say that I didn’t have love, or siblings, or a roof over my head, but as I grew, I remember it being volatile and abusive and I had no way of expressing myself but to write it down. Those many pieces of paper I kept in a folder, later destroyed in anger by someone I was with at the time. A part of me that I’ll never get back, but still I wrote and write.
For years, I was never alone, drifting in and out of relationships, or living with my family. I’ve been alone for quite while now and I’m learning how to cope with that. I do have family close by but most days I’m here alone. It isn’t something I’m used to. I know I don’t want it forever, but there’s a deeper sense of myself now that most of the time I am my own company. I realized that I spent so much time giving myself away, focusing on what was going on, on the outside, that I, little by little had forgotten that I need to take care of me. Writing has been my main outlet for creating or reacting, and I let many talents fall by the wayside.
I found my place of solace when my family moved from Virginia to Massachusetts with my grandparents. My grandmother was my saving grace. She taught me so many things that at the time I didn’t realize just how much they would mean to me later in life when I didn’t have her there pushing me to it. There were late night talks, teaching me what a pot and pan was for, embroidery (which I detested then), crocheting, so many card games together, laughter that still echoes in my mind, restraint, honesty, love, gratitude, how to play the horses :), family and the importance of it. She was my lifesaver when I was floundering and coping with issues that could have destroyed me. She stood by me when it was her own son who had caused me to fall apart. She was always my rock and to this day, I want to pick up the phone and hear her voice again, play one more game of yahtzee, canasta, rummy, laugh until we had tears rolling down our cheeks, that woman gave me everything I needed to want to keep on living.
Anyway, I trust very few with my emotions, and there’s been many coming to the surface. I still write them, but I feel them now, I let them out and in the end I am hoping that somehow it heals me. I still have a fear of showing them, maybe because of rejection, maybe because of hurt, maybe I feel too deep, and there’s a glory in that. Although not many understand that kind of depth, I understand that I’m okay, that I will work through the bittersweet, and someday find my way back to a lost innocence, to that place where I naively thought that everyone came from the same place and I had no shame in showing who I am. I’m getting there, taking my life back, expressing myself out loud…I forgive those who stole, took, and thought nothing of destroying me and for all that, I have lived most of my life so tuned in to others that I tuned out. I’m adjusting to the fact that I’m allowed to open up…I don’t condemn myself to silence to try to appease anymore. I felt so bad for myself that I wanted life to be beautiful for those I love…now, I take those feelings and turn them inward..and I want to find that beautiful place for myself.
I would turn back time, just to get to this place sooner, but working through it now is where I am, in the present. I know people say, no regrets, but if I’m being honest, there’s always regrets…I just want them to be used to make the future a better place for myself, emotionally, spiritually, and feel like I am who defines me…this being alone has taught me so much, brought me to a different level of what is important and what isn’t. I’m sure I’ll experience many emotions before my journey is over but they won’t lay silent in my writings alone…I will live..out loud..