I was having a bit of a rough day yesterday…But today it all looks much better. I went down to Indian Creek and found my peace and serenity here:
I needed to make myself laugh today so I wrote this short poem in dedication to Dr. Seuss. I need a doctor right about now.
What should I wear today?
Blue for my mood?
Red for my head?
Yellow to be mellow?
Black for my anxiety attack?
Green like the May Queen?
Chartreuse to be abstruse?
Brown cuz I’m down?
I think I’ll wear pink!
Pink by the sink,
Pink in my drink,
Pink when I think,
Pink cuz you’re a fink!
I know it seems like I’m this strong person who can get through anything, but inside I’m fragile. I’ve had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I’m afraid of is shattering.
I cried myself to sleep last night, yesterday was a really bad day and I haven’t wanted a drink more since I quit than I did yesterday, and I have never wanted to quit music more than I did yesterday. I didn’t give in to the unholy terror ripping through the core of my being, but don’t think that I didn’t want to. It is so hard to face the knowing, the knowledge that you have something really beautiful inside you to give and no one wants it. You are ignored and treated like crap by even the ones closest to you. You think I would be used to it by now, it’s been that way my entire life. My mother had an ignore button and she’s apparently not the only one. The day started out good, I found a sponsor, but then it just went to crap. What still sticks in my mind was when a person I like very much said something completely rude and snide to me. I was trying not to take up his time because I knew he was busy and I though his son was going to fix our beverages for us. Like an idiot I said this and he snapped at me and made a point of reminding me who he is. It hurt! What this friend probably didn’t know was that I was already a wounded animal when I walked up to the counter. Well my wounds were only going to get deeper before the day was finished with me. I sat at a table with my beverage and waited. Next thing I know my lead guitar player/husband was gone and didn’t say a word, I was left there sitting alone, beverage in hand and hurt. He was where I wanted to be. So I left and went home and cried myself to sleep. It’s morning and I am still crying. Why can’t my heart have a crap cleaner like my computer?
- The Fragile (happyperdition.wordpress.com)
- Pain of Glass (myownheart.me)
- Fragility (unexpectedlovely.wordpress.com)
- Fragile strength (butterflywarrior.typepad.com)