Overheated skin begins to calm as cool sea air traces invisible fingers ever so slightly along a tired form while the comedic chattering between a crow and a raven drifts from within the thick branches of an old tree across the street. The world itself is peaceful despite the strange storm that brews within an overactive mind.
Too long have these thoughts not been transferred into words, to pause and understand them; deciphering their collective chaos as a means to see the hidden truths of within. Making sense of the inner turmoil of a battered psyche as one readjusts to once again, starting over. There seems to be a flaw in that statement. Because as I traverse the inner catacombs of my memory warehouse, I realize that what has transpired was not new beginnings. It was a state of limbo. Forced to be held in suspension as the debris of my recent past collapsed into an unknown landscape of shadows and dust. Forced to wait as the air cleared, revealing a leveled playing field, created for countless possibilities as yet to be imagined.
The perception of the self was scewed at best as something much older remained off in the deepest corners of the mind, biding its time until the consciousness finally came to terms with the pain of loss. Watching in silence as I struggled to make some kind of sense of what I had been thrown into. There was no stopping. Not a moment to pause and take a breath as I plunged head first into a sea of confusion and fear. The journey set before me, was not merely my own. I was fighting against time, desperately hoping that my efforts would make a difference, that I could beat the fates. The simple truth of it was that I would never win. No matter how hard you try, how hard you scream defiance into the heavens, your will alone has no power over nature.
You can’t beat Death.
I know now that I became hollowed out from the overwhelming tsunami of grief that sliced through me until I was drowning in feeling. I was numb from it. I pushed forward as what was expected of me but I wasn’t me. The instinct to preserve the living organism and survive overrides all else. I was moving but inside, everything had gone so incredibly still. I lost something in those broken moments of uncertainty. A vital piece of who I used to be…simply shattered and fell away. It had served its purpose and in order to transition into whoever I’m supposed to become, there had to be a sacrifice.
Now as my fingers dance fluidly along these keys, I begin to understand that even though this was the place everything began to spiral downward… Where that painful journey first revealed itself to me…
Somehow, I’ve been brought back. With only a few belongings in bags, and my beautiful Eleanore who is as broken as I am, I’m home again. This was the last place I imagined I’d return to after everything I’ve experienced since I said farewell in early December of 2013.
I’ve become a true nomad. The only real piece of my home, of my hero, is in my Ellie. Those two incredibly precious objects are all I have left. Yes, I carry my father with me… Literally. His box remains within the unopened white cardboard box that was handed to me when I had to make that final trip to the mortuary. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting that parcel in storage along with everything else. That box isn’t something to be simply hidden away. It will stay with me until I can finally settle somewhere that I know won’t be temporary. Then I can finally give him the goodbye he deserves.
There was no funeral. No gathering of loved ones to say farewell. Just a box…
To say there is a great deal of rage inside me is an understatement. But it will remain precisely where it is, biding its time until the moment presents itself. I’ve never been brash, or ‘guns blazing’. I simply, wait.
It’s odd being here again, my city by the sea. Everything feels so very different yet I know nothing has really changed. I feel like Sam, Pip, Merry and Frodo after they’ve returned home. They had gone through so much in such a short amount of time that when they finally made it back, nothing was the same.
I want to be excited about what the future holds. I want to feel the joy of truly starting fresh, of the untapped possibilities that lie just ahead…
…but I’m afraid. I’m weary and quiet, much like a wounded animal finally being released back into the wild. I can’t quite trust it yet. As though it’s nothing more than another beautiful dream and I’ll be ripped away, only to be thrown back into that nightmare world I couldn’t escape.
It’s been only a week and I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I’m here. Somehow I’ve gone full circle.
I have a few aspirations that keep my mind occupied. Finding work asap, getting Ellie running properly, starting with her tires. Making entertaining videos and growing my YouTube channel. A short and simple list that won’t overwhelm me.
The anxiety was becoming so severe that I was becoming phobic of leaving my own room. I was spiraling out of control and I feel as though the rope was snatched up and slowly, carefully, I was pulled out of that bottomless pit.
I just want to heal. I never had a chance to really let myself. It’s still a process, and it won’t be easy. Hell, I’m honestly still in shock. I even lost faith in myself, in the things I believed in. In my own spirituality as I’ll put it. My own beliefs. I became bitter and numb like a machine with no emotions. I didn’t share that because that is definitely not a person anyone should see.
The strangest thing happened…as soon as I was close to my ocean, feeling the moon kiss my face and hearing the waves crash playfully along a dark shore…something inside shifted. I could Feel the energy again; the voiceless song of nature and the universe only the most primitive part of my mind can hear and understand.
For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I’m not waking up in a panic. My dreams have been more vibrant, more intense. I’m slowly remembering myself again.
That’s definitely a good thing.
-smiles-
-Adieu
