Shelia finally hit a wall. After chug, chug, chugging along and playing mind games to make herself believe everything was fine instead of f.i.n.e. Her world was fucked-up, insecure, neurotic, emotional. Mind over matter. And this time the mind was winning. The repetitive thoughts kept swirling. Around and around and around she goes like a big fucking roulette wheel. Finally landing in the red, splashed with blood stains, mentally fragmented. Just because he did, she didn’t have to follow. The scare billowing up from inside her fragile mind. Her friend was gone. She wasn’t sure she could go on.
Why does this always happen?
Pete was feeling good y’all
top of the world
loving life and living large
waking up on the floor of Target was no joke
people could’ve robbed him
thanks to the good Samaritan employees, that didn’t happen
Of course he hadn’t slept well for days
probably hit the wall and fell asleep standing
that’s better than the alternative of something really being wrong
at least lack of sleep is explainable
the stabbing stomach pains are not
gone too long without diagnosis
pills thrown at the problem
The rumble of thunder and crack of lightning did nothing to ease the fear roiling in her stomach. The pins and needles prickle created goosebumps that traveled up to the back of her neck. Was she being watched? Surely not. Her mundane life held no secrets that’d cause such an interest. Must be the book she read last night. Another psychological thriller. Reading was good for the soul but doing so sparked too much activity in her already worried mind. Meditation. Ah now that’s the stuff to cure what ails you. Her imagination was playing tricks. Then she heard screaming.
The flicker of her eyes
Unveiled a hurt
Which went straight to her core
Pain was palpable
Holding in feelings again. Until they pop out at the most inopportune time. Like at a birthday lunch. I vacillate between tough love/truth hurts to nothing good can come from saying something. For surely she knows. My dear sweet baby girl.
No doubt she knows despite the deep denial. She’s not stupid. To say what’s on my mind is simply cruel. But how do I rid this anger? Why is unconditional love so hard? Need to let go.
As always more to come.
One, two, three punch. Life happened to childhood friends. This meant that time was coming for her cohort.
Jay’s dad has kidney cancer in his lungs. Did you know it is still called kidney cancer even after it spreads? Well now we all do.
Diane travelling with her brother on a whirlwind bucket list vacation to Chi town. She takes a “tumble”. Vacation done! Ending in a severe injury requiring surgery to her left arm.
Missy has one year left. Lung cancer is now brain mets. Similar to Jay’s dad in that the cancer has spread. Praying for miracles.
He gave us shelter. The home for wayward children. Stability in an otherwise topsy-turvy world. Our parents flaked out and it was uncle who took us in.
Cousins more like siblings. The teasing never stopped. First thing Ray said whenever he saw me was “put the lock of the refrigerator door”. I wasn’t even eating my full potential back then. That’d come later. To soothe the pain. Kids are cruel or honest to a fault.
We all had our addictions and mine was food. Extreme measures. Then one day I stopped. Something clicked into place. Pounds dropped but nothing changed.
Saturday was a two pill kinda night. The pain wouldn’t subside. Her belly ached, cramping that burned reaching straight to her bones. Thank goodness Carl had leftover hydrocodone. Not oxy but it’d do in a pinch.
Addictive? Nope. Not for Sarah. She almost didn’t take another since the first pill did little to take the edge off. But pain made for poor bed fellows; @ 10 pm, she popped the second tab. Almost instantly, the room went woozy and she started to doze. Squashed her symptoms but was far from a cure.
Addictive? Yes. Sarah could get used to this.
Helen was superwoman. Her life was the epitome of ideal. Happily married for 12 years with the requisite two children, comfortable home, picket fence and family dog. No one knew she how she spent her off time … time away from the world.
Living had taken a toll on her once trim fit body. Her mind stored all the memories of better days. When did life get sour? Or had life always been that way. Helen was consumed and confused by the possible. Staying in bed wallowing away the minutes turned into hours was easier. Her destiny was to remain that way.
She never bothered to tell anyone. Why? Frankly no one cares. She voluntarily exiled herself to the room she hated most. Surrounded by clutter, she wallowed in pity. Hammering away at the keyboard. If she pounded hard enough surely the demons would break free. Hammering to release the wounds of past pains. A sense of loneliness and isolation from which she was born. She felt the word shame before she knew the meaning. An ache of being rejected by her whole clan. Unclean. Unworthy. Unwanted. Buried deep in her soul from the moment she took her first gasp of air.