Neither Life Nor Death

Peppermint purRing....thoughts...

Purring and pounding in my head...

So numb now, perhaps with a little more time I will completely cease to feel alone... that would be nice... oh yes...

Of course no more feelings at all would mean it wouldn't matter if I were alone...

I hope it is possible.

I am trying so hard to keep going. I really am. Why am I failing so miserably at this? The answer is obvious, of course.

 I feel like the little plant sitting on our kitchen table, wilting and depleted. Deprived of the sun and water, its leaves' cracking and crumbling into dust. Oh, how piteous and loathsome I have become.

And yet.... moments here and there, I feel.....something new stirring....

Or at least,  I hope it is something... a tiny beam of sunshine on the horizon, poking through the dreary clouds and desolate shadowy peaks.

Is it that peace that passes all understanding? Oh, how I hope so... I must continue to fight this crushing weight I keep finding myself under....

There are so many moments where I feel myself swallowing a lump in my throat; holding back my loneliness and despair.... stopping the tears from welling in my eyes, so as not to disrupt something already so volatile and weak. Drawing away to prevent making matters worse. Sacrificing my feelings at the alter of his illness... it is necessary sometimes...oh yes...and it may be the loneliest feeling of all. I must stay strong... especially when its only me here...

Me, in charge of almost everything. I was never meant to be in charge of anything, I am so scatterbrained and clueless... And not that I necessarily deserve it all the time, but it would be so much easier if my attempts were met with love and gentleness... which they are, sometimes....but who can say when?

Every day, even every hour, or minute, is a gamble. I go about my work, flipping through one chaotic scene after another, to come home to.....a mystery. It may have a happy ending, or a very sad one, or anxious and unsettling.

It would be easier if it was just one thing all the time, good or bad, if I could only know what to expect....

Why can't I shake this feeling?  Why can't I just be numb?

...


And I can't even be mad about it, because it is no one's fault.

But there is also no way out.

Sometimes I wonder if that is truly why I feel alone, simply by knowing that I will always be alone. It is the life I have chosen. No one I know will be able to quite understand this, to feel precisely how I feel, and why I stay, despite how absolutely miserable it can be...

 And I'm NOT writing this to try and express some sense of nobility or high morals...

Its my choice. A good one, or a bad one, I do not know; I don't think it is for me or anyone else to say.



Am I such a delicate little flower that I must inevitably be crushed by this...? Is my response to this a sign of weakness or sensitivity or simply exhaustion?