Fragmented Ponderings

Rich and earthy, I am seduced by the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee as I continue to ingest my second cup. It was a calm morning, a thick layer of low clouds covered the heavens as the temperature was no more than a lovely 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Much cooler than what the weather channel predicted the day before and I'm grateful for it.

-grows a small smile and takes a hefty drink from her Nightmare Before Christmas Thermos-

This morning was also bittersweet, having learned that Sir Christopher Lee had passed away, Sunday June 7th. Another one of my Dad's favorites, along with Peter Cushing and Vincent Price (as my Dad called, "Uncle Vinny"). Three dear friends, amazing thespians and remarkable human beings.

I remember how badly my Dad wanted to share, "The Horror of Dracula" with me a few years ago, just before his illness began taking over our lives. He had told me it was one of the most amazing, knock-down, drag-out fights between Van Helsing and Dracula ever portrayed on film and nothing would ever top it. That Sir Christopher Lee was the epitome of terrifying and no one would ever compare.

-pauses as that old familiar ache begins coiling inside her rib-cage and struggles to take a deep, calming breath-

Dad was right. He was frightening.

As I think back now, all the times Dad wanted to share something with me, no matter what I was doing, only slightly annoyed at first for the interruption, I still met him halfway. Things that were important to him, things that brought a smile to his face, good memories that would cause his eyes to brighten... I would always say, "Sure, Dad. Why not?"

I'm glad I did...knowing now, that every moment is precious and fleeting. The painful truth of it is, we are Finite. There is only here and now, this very moment... Cherish it. I cannot stress that enough.

Even now as I type these words, the threat of tears lining my lash line, I lick my suddenly dry lips but remain still. Yes, this is painful, but necessary. Better to ride it out then bury it.

Hmm, that's strange. I just had this overwhelming urge to write a small tidbit of a story for you and I think I'll do just that.

*  *
She ran, panicked footsteps slapping against the broken pavement as darkness continued to swell against the last lingering light of day. Something was coming. A terrible thing thats soul purpose was to devour every ounce of good from the souls it happened to cross. How it came to be that this monstrosity was now hunting her was nothing more than a run of bad luck.

That good old fashioned phrase of, 'being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

This was not going to end well…

Lungs heaved, muscles ached as adrenaline surged white hot through heated veins forcing a tired body beyond its limits. Pain receptors were blocked as a heartbeat thundered, tendons straining, skin slick with sweat. Keep going. Don’t stop. God, don’t let it get me.

But it already had. What she was running from wasn’t some unseen demon or monster out of a Stephen King novel. The terror that followed her every move, every breath she took…was with her all along.

Her body had finally slowed as she neared a parked car sitting adjacent to an old lamppost. Panting, she stood next to the passenger side door and felt a strange energy trickle along her spine. Brow furrowed, something told her to look up.

It was there in the reflection of the window that she saw the truth.

There was no escaping it…the beast she tried to elude was staring back at her. It was her face but not at the same time. Her eyes…weren’t her eyes. In fact, they were nothing more than empty sockets filled with black smoke.

She screamed.

- -- -

Every muscle tensed as a shaking form shot up out of bed and landed painfully in a mess of limbs on the floor; feet tangled in the sheet that now stuck wetly against clammy skin.

Blinking, chest heaving, she glanced around the room and realized where she was. “Holy shit…” She muttered in a scratchy voice and placed her face in her hands as a heartbeat thumped loudly inside her chest like a trapped hummingbird trying to escape.

A shake of the head followed by a soft growl as she managed to get back on her feet and started walking on trembling legs into the kitchen to make herself a very strong pot of coffee. “Looks like it’s gunna be one of those days.” She quipped to herself and just shook her head, hoping the images would begin to fade and not haunt her for the rest of the morning.
*  *  *

I'm in a really weird head-space right now. I want to keep writing, I just can't pinpoint one thought long enough to make it into something tangible. It's like trying to chase wayward fireflies drifting into the darkness, blinking off and on as they rise out of reach.

-sighs and shakes her head-

I think I'll end it here for now...but don't be surprised if I end up posting another blurb later tonight or early in the morning. Thinking about those memories with Dad brought emotions to the surface that want me to pull back and be still.

So for right now, I'm gunna go sit outside and clear my head and try as best as I can to quell this aching in my chest. 

-Anon

A Glimpse into the Chaos

It's just after midnight and I should be sleeping. Maybe it's the rush of cool air against my heated skin that keeps me awake, or perhaps that bloated orb nestled within the dark heavens above me that stirs something wild within... Either way, I don't want these memories flashing behind my eyes with a razor sharp clarity. Memories of moments of 2013, just as Dad got sick... Things I thought I'd moved away from, buried within the blissful silence of my memory warehouse...

Now they're screaming inside my head, painful lashes of emotions I fought so hard to forget, tearing open the scars I thought had finally begun to heal. It wasn't a conscious decision to blank them out. It was as though I had simply gone forward when parts of myself went missing. I thought they'd come back a piece at a time, like the new growth of a forest after a terrible fire turned the world into nothing more than ash. 

But this has been relentless these past few days. A tirade of images and sensory memories unlike anything I've experienced before.

Perhaps it's my brain's way of finally cleaning house. Forcing me to deal with this avalanche built up inside me over the past two years and I can do nothing more than dig in my heels and hope I can claw my way out from beneath the debris when it finally settles.

I'm going to try and sleep. A few hours is better then nothing at all. When I awake, maybe I'll have good dreams to add to this.

-good night- (12:11am)

(Returns at 6:35am the next morning)

I glance up into the glowing horizon and it's not the Red Tail's silhouette that greats me, but a lone mourning dove directly across from me on the power line. It's an odd sensation, knowing this bird sings a sad song for the mate it lost. I call back to it and it immediately responds, desperate to connect again. I know this because as I took a short walk to the store yesterday with my roommate's daughter and on our way back, I saw this lone dove just above us and called out to it. It turned it's body to peer down at me, almost urgent in its movements, which I found odd. I took not a step forward when something told me to look down. There, nestled against the curb where the street met the sidewalk was the body of a mourning dove, laid out on it's back with its head turned away from the street. My heart sank. It's also then that I realized it may have very well been the Red Tail that caused it's untimely death.

Interestingly enough, I have not seen the Lady Hawk yesterday or this morning. I've seen her every day, sometimes more than four times, up on her perch or flying overhead. What's odd about yesterday was not only the dove, but that in the early morning as my roommate's daughter and I were heading for the car so I could take her to school, when I got to the driver's side door ready to unlock it, I heard the distinctive purring meow of a cat behind me. I stopped, blinked and turned toward the sound. There, not six feet from where I stood was a young black cat with stunning golden/amber eyes. "Hi baby!" I exclaimed softly and took a few steps toward her, noticing that when she responded she physically lurched her body toward me but wasn't sure. "Well come here shuga, I'm not gunna hurt you." And held my hand out. She immediately trotted over, tail raised and sniffed my hand before head bumping it, accepting the offering and wanted more affection. I crouched beside her and started petting her, brushing off random leaves from her dark brown fur. My roommate's daughter had ninja'd out of the car and was standing cautiously to my right, about a foot away wanting to meet the young black cat. "Come here sweety, come say hi." I cooed gently and while closing the distance between us, motioned with my hand for the young feline to follow. She obliged and happily greeted her. 

I noticed then that she had a bit of bulging stomach. "I think it's a girl, and she may be pregnant." I thought aloud and my roommate's daughter agreed. I glanced in the appropriate area and my instinct was confirmed. "Yup, she's missing the equipment for a boy." We both kind of chuckled. 

We had to go, so I gave her a few more pets and told her I'd be back and as I started for the driver's side door, she seemed to think she was coming with me and started following. I told her she had to wait and motioned for her to go around the car, which she did. We got in, put on our seatbelts and watched as the tiny black panther trotted over to the head of the car, close to the sidewalk. As soon as I started the engine she startled and ran back to the spot I first saw her, so I knew she'd be fine.

-pauses to take another drink of her coffee and glances up. Finding two mourning doves facing her instead of one-

Hmm, odd indeed.

So as you may have read previously, the section I typed out from last night, I was in a very strange headspace. I still am to an extent, but it's not nearly as bad as last night. Which is definitely a good thing, considering that's not something I want to be feeling the brunt of when I first wake up in the morning.

With everything I went through, from the time my friend Lory passed away to the events leading me into working as a Rabble Rouser for faire... As Faire continued, Dad was getting worse. As my world started to open up, finally getting ready to get out on my own and start my life, the fates intervened and derailed me. For so long I had stayed in my Father's shadow. Too long had I spent in the comforts of my childhood home knowing that I should've been out on my own already. Odd thing is, is that I had been. I lived with roommates, I had a job, I paid bills. I gained life experience and even ended up with my beautiful Eleanore. But I was brought home again. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that it was a good thing. That I needed to stay for a little while. I knew if I hadn't been there, if I wasn't as close, something bad would've happened sooner. Even though he had drank his liver into failure, I managed to prolong his life. It wasn't much, but he used to tell me all the time, how much my presence actually impacted him. That with me just being there, even while I was writing with my head phones on while he watched another episode of Buffy... It was enough. He used to tell me I made a difference without even realizing it.

-fights the sheen of tears that threaten to pool along her lash line-

We didn't have much but he told me he was proud of his daughter and amazed at the strong, intelligent, resilient young woman I had become, even if I didn't see it. That I was truly a Sailor's daughter and god help any man that ever pissed me off.

-grows a small smile while fighting the tightening within her ribcage-

I think back now and realize that for as much as I did, as many nights I barely slept, for months, I would never have just given up on him. He was sick and I was hellbent on doing everything I possibly could to give him a chance. It was my responsibility. There were those who, like angels, were there to help whenever they could and I can never truly thank them for it. They selflessly helped us when I had no one else to reach out to. I am forever indebted to them.

-takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before taking another drink from her second cup of coffee-

A part of me wants to go home. An almost desperate cry from my soul to place my bare feet against the grainy sand, playful wind slapping cool sea air against my face as the ocean reaches out to tickle the flesh of my feet with icy fingers. To hear that growling thunder as waves crash along the shore accompanied by a chorus of seagulls squawking obnoxiously overhead. I miss being near my great blue mother. To the scent of wild jasmine blooming at sunset as a thick fog rolled up and over the cliffs onto the streets. To hear the faraway barking of merdogs at the seal refuge up the hill, or the haunting cries of wild peacocks wailing into the early morning sun. Or the silly chittering of young raccoons wrestling playfully along the grass just beneath my window like fluffy sumo wrestlers into the wee hours of night.

I know now that I never took a moment for granted. The good and the bad still replaying on a small projector screen in the back of my mind. I will always cherish those memories, no matter how bittersweet because they're a part of me, of who I am. It's definitely not all bright'n'shiny, but it's honest.

-gives a small smile and nearly drains her nightmare before christmas thermos of it's magical contents-

I'm not where I expected to be when I started planning to get out on my own. "You're precisely where you ought to be." Says Gandalf the grey inside my head -chuckles-

On that note, it's now 7:04am and I need to get my ass in hear to take the lovelies to school. I may write more when I get back, but we'll see if the urge is still there.

-returns at 8:07am-

Lately, with these emotions finding their way back to the surface, feeling as though I've been turned inside out, I've come to a realization about myself. Something I wasn't all that pleased with when it initially graced my thoughts. I have been suffering from depression. I fought so hard to stay bright and shiny and positive no matter how shit-tastic I was feeling deep down inside. I refused to let it coil around me and pull me down into that inky blackness. I wasn't going to give it power by saying I felt low. I just wouldn't allow it. Even during the run of this recent faire season I noticed it's manifestation in the weight I had put on. I was nearly 20 pounds heavier then I had wanted to be. I didn't let that pull me down. There were moments when I'd see a picture or look in the mirror and feel that nasty old voice whisper to me that I was becoming ugly again. I flat out ignored it, no matter how much it nagged at me. I simply reminded myself that weight fluctuates and I can work it off and start getting back down in size again, which I currently am. 

I feel better physically when I'm between 150-160 which is still hefty, but not that unhealthy for my build. I almost topped 190 recently and a switch went off on my head. I'm now 178 and still dropping. I've also gained more muscle, which is actually a relief. 

Psychologically speaking, there's a twisted part of my brain, a form of Body Dysmorphia that will claw it's way to the surface if my face gets a little puffy or I swell a little around my midsection from water retention due to natural hormonal fluctuations. The Body Dysmorphia Disorder looks for any excuse to rear it's ugly head but I recognize it for what it is and squash it before it poisons me. From the age of 9 until I was 17 I suffered and fought with it. Caused by the negative terminology of my physical appearance by adults and classmates. Their words had a detrimental affect on my emotional development, especially my self esteem. I was convinced I would never be good enough or beautiful or hold any worth as a human being because I was overweight. No, let me rephrase that. Fat. I was the 'fat ass', 'chunky' etc. I especially loved the phrase, "you're kinda cute Erin, but you'd be allot prettier if you were skinny." I was 9 years old.

Somehow I survived my adolescence and eventually blossomed... After I was 17. I was a very late bloomer. So now as an adult, I understand where these negative thoughts derive from and begin picking them apart before they start to infect me. I won't be a victim of my own childhood demons. 

-chuckles and shakes her head after taking another hefty drink of her third cup of coffee-

Damn, I'm definitely on roll this morning. I guess I needed to let this out, to release some of the pressure building inside before it caused any real damage. Usually it's so very minimal I hardly give it any real thought. I suppose with the flood of my recent past, events with my Father that led me to where I am now...I'm forced into facing myself. No, it's not exactly pleasant, but it explains my moods that I've been internalizing as of late. 

There's honestly nothing wrong with me, just another form of grief. I'm just as screwed up as the next person^_^ 

I'm definitely not ignoring how I feel, which shows how far I've grown as a functioning adult. 

You know I find it interesting, that even though I suffer from a rare, genetic skin disease that there's still no cure for (no it's not contagious) that sometimes is a painful reminder that I will never be normal...it doesn't get the best of me anymore. So I've got scars. So I've got a high threshold for pain. So I'll never wear sleeveless anything in public. So what? It's really not that big of a deal. It used to be, of course. I went through the 'why me' stages. Eh, I got over it. I found it fascinating recently when I discovered it's an autoimmune disease. My body is constantly attacking and healing itself. Talk about being at war with yourself -chuckles- which also explains why I tend to bounce back so quickly from injuries or being sick. I'm pretty damned healthy despite some unhealthy habits here and there. I should be physically worse off than I am. I should be in agonizing pain. But I'm not. Sure, I'll have the occasional flare up to where I'm almost completely immobile, yet even then I've forced myself to get up and be with friends. Because even though I should've been hospitalized for the pain alone, (yes, it has and can get that bad) I knew that just being in good company was enough to bring my weakened spirits up. And it did.

Yes, my father was right. I am one stubborn hard ass lol

Alright, I think I've gone on long enough. Hopefully this wasn't too all over the place and was more or less entertaining. Just a glimpse into the chaos of my mind. Scary, huh?

-Adieu

Caffeinated and Thoughtful

A snapshot of the sky I captured while on the freeway

-7:09am-

A calming stillness traces invisible fingertips along my skin as I press my thumb against the screen, typing out my thoughts onto my phone as cars begin to pass to and fro along the heavily used street. I reach over to my left and bring my Nightmare Before Christmas to my lips to take a drink of hot coffee; enjoying the way it slithers a line of warmth down my throat and pools in my stomach as though hugging me from the inside. I take a moment to pull my eyes away from the small glowing screen in my right hand and peer across the street, where my new friend the Red Tail is perched and occasionally turns her head in my direction. Seeing this, I wave and watch as she cants her head curiously at my movement. Even from this distance I can make her out. Not sure as to why I'm saying 'she' but it was actually the first thing that popped in my head yesterday when I saw her. It's interesting that I would have to be up early this chilly May morning and that she would be on that high tower as though greeting me.

Hard to see but she's up there ^_^

Stranger still is what I found by sheer random as I perused YouTube before finally allowing myself to succumb to my hidden sanctuary in dreamscape. I had this strange urge to look up Heidi Montag and found that she's regretting her decision on having such drastic plastic surgery now more than four years ago. It's unfortunate that it took her doing something so extreme to her appearance to realize that her self confidence and worth as a person does not derive from looks alone. I've never disliked her, I want to make that point adamantly clear. I was honestly saddened that she had chose to undergo such a dangerous change in order to feel beautiful when truth be told, she was already beautiful to begin with.

The interesting part in all of this was looking through her recent videos and finding one where she had openly reached out to Amanda Bynes... 

The reason this took me aback and I found myself blinking, was the realization that in an older post, when I had spoke about Heidi, I had started with Amanda. You can view that blog -here-.

I was wondering why recently it's been popping up in my more popular musings (on the right hand side of my blog) and now...I can honestly say I'm a bit perplexed. This isn't the first time I've written about something that not long after, finds its way back into my view without me actively creating it (if that makes any sense). 

Another example is recent videos on dinosaurs and their new discovery linking to certain species. Which has come more into light due to the new Jurassic World movie that's about to be released in theatres this coming June. One dinosaur in particular has been brought to my attention. The Spinosaurus.

I had a real issue with it's first big screen appearance in Jurassic Park 3. I went off on tangents to those willing (and not so willing) to listen on how this specific carnivore would not actively go after a T-Rex (wrong continent) nor would it spend any real energy on a handful of humans when physiologically speaking, it is more than apparent that it's main food source is found in the water. It's diet was predominantly fish and other aquatic life.

I've actively researched Dinosaurs since I was 8 years old. I wanted to be a paleontologist. I'd also like to point out that I've never stopped researching. I may not have gone to a university to get a degree on the subject but I easily could have with all the knowledge I've been absorbing over the years. It will never not be a passion of mine. So when I would start an argument about the way a certain animal has/is portrayed, there's usually a damned good reason.

Now, having said that, I learned yesterday that all the things I had argued when it came to Spinosaurus actually turned out to be correct. And this was long before they found new evidence to support my thought process when it came to this particular carnivore. 

If interested in learning more about this very strange and fascinating species of Dinosaur, you can click -Here- and it will take you to a video that will inform you of the new findings.

-pauses to gulp down a few mouthfuls of her coffee and looks up to see her Hawk friend still across the street-

::leaves at 7:09am:: ::returns at 8:09am::

I left shortly to take my roommate's daughter to school and on my way back, more than a few miles away, another Red Tail Hawk was perched on a light post to my direct right. It's not uncommon for raptors to have such a large territory, it is odd however that when I got back to the apartment, I noticed my Red Tail was still on her perch across the street. That's two hawks in one morning. She's still there right now as I type these words. So it wasn't the same hawk. Interesting, no?

I'll let you decide ;)

And on that note I shall end it here and ingest more coffee goodness.

-Adieu-

Gone But Never Forgotten

An invisible hand trails icy fingertips along the exposed flesh of my arms, cooling the skin as it whispers playfully around me before swirling away. Warm streams of sunlight bleed through the cloud layer for a moment only to drench me in silver shadows as they move lazily within the heavens. I peer up to my left at the thermometer hanging from a wall on the porch and it reads 62 degrees Fahrenheit. It is a beautiful overcast morning that reminds me of home.

A Snapshot of the sky as I started writing...weird how the cloud looks like a figure

Pandora radio continues to entertain me as the song 'Runnin' with the Devil' starts playing brings a quiet smile to my face. A song I've blared on my portable speaker while driving my beautiful Chevy along the winding road adjacent to the cliffs of San Pedro. Windows rolled down, smelling the chilled sea air as the growl of that 350 rumbled through the frame, as though she were purring. 

It seems Pandora is in a Supernatural mood as 'House of the Rising Sun' begins pouring into the crisp air. Yet another song that takes me back, reminding me of cherished moments that will remain alive and well within my memory warehouse.

Dad and Ellie in 2010

It's interesting, the state I'm in. There's a kind of peace churning through me as I type these words; a stillness that stretches the valley of my full lips with the beginning of a smile.

-lets out a soft chuckle as Journey's 'Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)' starts playing-

Interesting lyrics... Considering where my thoughts are and what today means to me.

Oddly enough, I'm actually doing okay. Yes, today at 7:53pm marks the One Year Anniversary that Dad slipped away. Yes, it's a painful reminder of how life can literally change over night. Yet, I'm alright for the moment. Which I prefer rather than being a complete mess. 

A quick snapshot while I'm continuing to write/type on my phone ^_^

 -grows a bright smile and starts rocking out as Tom Petty's 'Last Dance With Mary Jane' begins playing-

I love that Pandora is playing songs that really make me think of good memories and moments of home and time spent with Dad. Songs that really resonate with the child inside, the innocence that's been in hiding. I can feel her peeking out from behind one of the shelves in my memory warehouse, a basketball sized Clydesdale plushie held close to her chest in one hand, her other grasping the clawed hand of a large skeletal shadow that crouches protectively next to her; the smooth curve of its eyeless face peering forward, lips relaxed over its silver teeth, inner maw hidden from sight. A smile pulls at my lips as Led Zepplin's 'Over The Hills And Far Away' begins playing and I can feel the innocence begin to tap her foot to the beat.

There's just something in the air today, an energy I can't quite explain that seems to be speaking to me with a wordless voice only my soul can understand.

I've yet to watch last night's episode of Supernatural "The Prisoner", which like last year, is the second to the last episode of the Season. It's strange... Last year it was exactly the same. In the sense that it showed on Tuesday and Dad passed away the next day, a Wednesday. Earlier this year they moved Supernatural to Wednesday and wouldn't you know... It showed last night, and today is the anniversary. Gotta love random synchronicities.

I'm sure it'll be a good day, at least I'm hoping so. After I finish this and post it, I'm going to watch the new episode from last night and later today at some point, I'm going to sit down and watch 'The Fog' the original version. A movie Dad and I watched every April 21st... I didn't get a chance to this April, so in honor of our Tradition, I'll make up for it and watch it today.

I'm sure it'll be bittersweet, but I'll survive. If I can feel this calm until tonight, I'll be good.

Got creative with a picture I found on the interwebs and made it nifty on my phone last night :)

And on that note, I shall bid thee Anon, grab another cup of strong coffee (Yuban's Pacific Roast; Dad's favorite) and get to watching.

-Adieu 

Always Keep Fighting

There's a calmness in the world around me as the monitor before my tired eyes gives off a haunting glow, illuminating my form in a ghostly halo that casts eerie shadows along the walls behind me. The seductive beat of The Dresdon Dolls fills my senses; my body swaying back and forth on its own accord to the rhythm dancing through my ears.

It's a better day, the swell of painful emotions having eased back into hiding, allowing my soul to breathe again. As I've said before, most days I'm perfectly fine. Of course there are the times when it digs its talons into me and drags itself back to the surface, leaving me helpless to stop it. 

I'm sure we all go through it at some point in our lives. No matter the age, it's always a horrific experience. No one is ever truly prepared for the chaos it creates inside. You're functioning perfectly fine one moment and in the next...you feel as though every fiber of your being is about to tear itself apart and leave you bleeding and broken in the wake of its devastation.

Lovely depiction of loss, no?

-shakes her head with a ghost of a smile and takes a drink of her coffee-

On to other things, shall we?

I'm a bit surprised that Faire has flown by so fast this year. Two weekends left, this one included. It's definitely been bittersweet. So much has changed...yet somehow still the same. I, myself, have changed but that's okay. It's odd, in many ways I feel more confident in my own skin and who I am as a person then I ever have. I'm not sure if it's simply because I'm getting older or due to dealing with so many life changing events in such a short amount of time that I've learned how truly precious and short life is and it's pointless to miss out on experiences because of indecision bred out of insecurity and fear. You only get one shot at this (unless you're the Winchesters...-chuckles-) might as well face it head on and experience every moment with child-like innocence and wonder.

I've allowed myself to tear down the veil of my insecurities and have slowly started to step away from that sheltered part that's only hindered me from actually living life to the fullest. I may have lost my footing once or twice but I've gotten back up and kept moving. You'll never truly succeed if you never allow yourself to fail.

That's another thing...I've always been so terribly afraid of being nothing more than a failure. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that's always been one of my biggest hang-ups. I was so scared of just screwing up that it crippled me from even trying. I guess it takes a life altering event...

My Father's Illness, having to become responsible for not only him, myself, my cats, the apartment, my car, his truck, but all the finances by trying to hold two jobs and struggle to keep from suffering a nervous breakdown...only to be forced to leave my childhood home and city behind in the fight to keep my Father here... Move to a town I've never even heard of, witnessing my Father's health continue to decline while trying desperately to remain positive and mentally stable when all I wanted to do was escape and never wake up... 

That's just the short version.

I juggled so many things and was too stubborn to just pause and breathe. I felt that I wasn't allowed to. That I had to keep moving. There was no option. People depended on me and no matter how twisted up I was inside, I tried to keep fighting. Because that's all I had left. Even when I screwed up on several occasions due to mental and emotional exhaustion...not understanding why I was suffering from memory loss, or why I'd wake up so many times during the night thinking my Dad was calling out my name, why I felt as though I was in a fog and the world was nothing more than white noise in my head. I was so ashamed of myself. Why I couldn't just function and do things right. I was disgusted with myself for letting loved ones down... To this day I don't know why I couldn't have been better. Why I wasn't more on top of things. Why I failed so miserably at just being an adult.

And just like that, Dad was gone and something inside me snapped. I know now that in his passing, some part of me went with him and I'll never get her back. But that's how this living thing works, right? It's all a huge clusterf*ck of learning and gaining wisdom. Some of us end up drowning in it while others barely drift along its surface.

Heh, funny how that works...

-smirks and takes another drink of her coffee-

Despite the dreariness of my tone as I type these words, I'm actually in a good head space right now. Well, a slightly sardonic, snide place, but it's better than I could be. I'm lighter than I was is the best way to put it.

It's interesting that I still have yet to see a licensed therapist/psychologist for all the shit that's still swirling around in my head like a swarm of locusts destroying everything in their path toward freedom. I'll get to one eventually. I'm not opposed if that's what you're thinking. It's simply not in my price range right now. Sadly, it's as simple as that. And I'm sorry, but my first priority is getting Eleanore running. Once my Ellie is mechanically sound again I can start focusing on other things that need to be done. 

As Dad used to say, "take one thing at a time". No need to get overwhelmed and stressed over things you have no immediate control over.

So that's exactly what I'm doing, one thing at a time. It may not be as fast as I'd like, but at least I'm making progress and that's the important thing.

Damn, I've written quite a bit today, haven't I? It's funny, right when I began with a blank page, my fingers poised over these black keys before me...I wasn't sure if I'd have anything interesting to say. Guess I proved myself wrong.

-gives a small smile-

Alright my luvlies, it's time for another cup of coffee. 

-Adieu

Wearing a Brave Mask

Darkness gently curls around my tired form as cold air pours out of the windows, caressing my heated flesh with welcomed, icy hands. I sit here, going over the strange images still echoing in my head from when I lay in bed, trapped in sleep's embrace. They whisper softly, sweetly. Bittersweet secret things only my soul can decipher. I strain to understand them, swirling projections out of focus; edges blurred. I place headphones over my ears and let the slow rhythm of a song dance through my senses, causing my body to move and sway to the haunting beat. The music drowns out the world and allows me to delve deeper into the darkest reaches of my mind... Seeking out the dreams that continue to elude me.

There was a heaviness, as if something unseen was trailing me. I could feel it on the edge of my footsteps, waiting and curious. As though I should recognize it. A familiar thing haunting me within the darkness that curled around me like living streams of playful smoke. But nothing moved within that inky black, only the quiet padding of bare feet touching the earth as I walked.

-shrugs and takes a hefty drink of her strong coffee-

I've been struggling with myself lately. The internalization of old traumas, remembering the pain they brought me, the emotional tsunami that devastated me as it tried in vain to pull me under. Somehow I got through it but never the same. Bits and pieces of who I used to be were washed away by the flood of tragedy that swept through my life. There's makeshift patches in the places that were torn away. Fragmented spirit fighting to burn against an all-consuming darkness.

-smirks and takes another drink, enjoying the way the heat trails down into her stomach-

Each new day is bringing me that much closer to the anniversary of tragedy, to a day that's been eating away at the back of my mind like a rat defying the cage; desperate to escape at any cost. I don't want to be flooded by the grief of my father's passing. I don't want to remember the agony of his loss. Not when it lives in a mournful song behind my eyes. It finds a way to bleed through me, an ache I can never soothe or be free from. He's gone and there's nothing I can do about it.

I just wish it didn't cripple me the way it does. Most days I can get by just fine, becoming accustomed to his absence. Accepting the void left in his passing. Pushing forward and facing each new day as best as I can. Yet there's always something that takes me back, a reminder of what will never be. Last night was another reminder. Watching Supernatural and suddenly wishing I could talk to him about it. Thinking, "Oh Dad would've been pissed!" and then finding myself falling into a memory of a time before, which only caused my chest to ache and my breath to hitch. My eyes remained blissfully tear-free, but there was a warning of liquid emotion just itching to flood the surface. I managed to keep a cool head and waited as the memories went silent again.

You'd think I'd haven gotten past all this. That I'd be right as rain already. Heh, not bloody likely. I'm just better at masking it as time passes. Adapting to it so that my eyes no longer reveal the storm raging inside.

It's not something you just 'get over' no matter how hard to you try. Unless you are completely void of human emotion, it's going to find a way to remind you of what you've lost and there's not a god damned thing you can do about it. So you push on with a brave mask and keep going. Even if you feel completely broken inside and end up face-planting in the dirt...get angry, get up, dust yourself off and start moving. Life waits for no one. The world won't stop turning because you're having a bad day. It doesn't give two shits about you. Gotta remember, none of us make it out of this existence alive. Some just get to the finish line faster than we'd like. No one is ever ready to let go, even if we've been warned. You're never truly prepared for it. Not really. Logically maybe...but they never tell you how much it's going to hurt. How it can nearly destroy you from the inside out and leave nothing more than a shell of who you used to be.

The game changes, the world keeps turning so you suck it up and keep going. Wearing that Brave Mask to get through it and over time, even you start believing in it. Hoping that it won't hurt as much, that the pain isn't as sharp when you're forced to remember.

Fading echoes of memories lost within the walls of our internal warehouse.

-shakes her head and drains her cup-

I know there's a tone to the way I'm writing this morning. A slight edge to my words as my fingers dance along these black keys. A hint of bitterness mixed with a quiet anger that remains trapped behind my eyes.

Don't worry, it'll pass. It always does. It's just one of those mornings...

Thank the gawds for coffee, huh?

-smiles-

-Anon-