~A Bitter Swallow~

  I'm having a difficult night.  I went and saw a pretty cute movie called Trainwreck with a friend of mine.  It was like watching a comedic chick-flick documentary on my life.  The way she handles relationships with men, the running, the emotional blocks, the walls...  and then the way she completely and utterly freaks out when feelings hit her unexpectedly.   The only problem is it got me thinking about things again;  things that have been going on recently and things about myself that I'd rather not be thinking about.

 Then I came home to more bills in the mail.  Then even bigger ones in my email.  Things seem to just keep snowballing on me and I can't seem to catch any footing here.  I'm falling and floundering and I can't keep myself upright.  I'm getting buried over here, and I'm just about to the point of defeat.  I don't know what to do anymore.    I'm at my wits end and I just don't have anywhere to turn.  Every which way I look is yet another failure in this great tragic comedy that I've made my life.  The only good thing I've done with it are my kids.  I try desperately hard not to let them see just how damaged and broken I've become.  I don't want them to see me weak.  I want to be strong for them. I want to give them a good, strong role model to look to.  I just can't help but see how drastically I am failing at that.  

It hurts.  I want to reach out, but  I don't really want to talk with anyone.  I care about the  people in my life, and I know that there are those who care about me.   I truly do.   I just don't want to talk about anything with anyone.  I do feel the desire to be near someone, however I'm quite certain that the only person I really want to  have near me through this wants nothing to do with me anymore.  This makes me ache in ways I didn't even know I was capable of.  In ways I never, ever want to experience again.

 My trust levels about opening up emotionally with people have been severely damaged again.  The depths of the wounds and scarring suggest that there won't be a good recovery this time around.   You poke a vein too many times, it's bound to collapse irreparably.   I'm sitting in the middle of my castle of walls while my world crumbles around me, and there is nothing I can do about it.  I watch as all the beautiful, empty words people have said to me whisper through the haunted walls on hollow winds.  All the empty words, tormenting me with their broken promises and deceit.  Words I foolishly believed and fell for, opened cracks in my walls for; cracks that became fissures; fissures that weakened me and left me vulnerable.



    Emotions.  Health.   Finances.  Work.  Abode.   All of it in disrepair.  All of it chaotic.  All of it a whirlwind of pandemonium in my head, threatening to tear me down to my very core and break me into little pieces;  to shred me bit by bit until there is absolutely nothing left.   Confetti of flesh and bone and blood and brain and mind and thought....  raining down where there was once a person.    Could I be reborn from such a bloody mess?  As the Phoenix is reborn from its ash when it burns, could I rise once again from the detritus of my own implosion?