I'm numb. No I'm not. I feel. No I don't. I'm crazy. No I'm Not. My mind is spinning. No it's not. I need to be held. No I don't. I need be touched. No I don't. I need to be wanted. No I don't. I am in control. No I'm not. I'm happy. No I'm not. I need. No I don't. I wish to be numb. No I don't. Yes I do.
I sit here and wish I could formulate my thoughts. My feelings. I wish I could let out what is dragging me down. Why I feel so deflated. What is going through my mind. Why I feel so drained. Is it just another meaningless milestone. Is that what this feeling is. A momentary feeling. One that will pass. Will I be fine in a few days. Or is this just my usual. Up and down. Realizing my reality. Life hitting me in the face. Internal emptiness. Eternal sadness.
Why can't I verbalize the truth. Why can't I admit it to myself. Say it out loud. What I want. What I need. Deserve. Who I am. Why do I put myself in this box. In this cage. Why am I alone. Right now. Tonight. Right this minute. I put myself here. I have no one to blame but myself.
Where is the inspiration. Where are the people. I know they are there. I know they care. But I feel so removed. Distant. I am floating away. Another year. Another day. Emptiness.
I want to feel. I want to feel. Everything. Something. Love. All of it. I want to smell. The world. See. The beauty. Touch. I want to be. Taste. Life. Every drop. I don't want to miss any of it. I don't want to be numb. Not anymore. I want to be. To feel. Open. To the world. To life, To Love. To opportunity. I want. I need. I want.
And that's ok.
Here's to another year.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Empty Tears
The tears. They are tears that don't come often. They hide inside. Refuse to leave their post.
You were supposed to protect me. Supposed to love me forever. Never supposed to leave my side. You were supposed to be my best friend. To love me. Forever. You were supposed to keep me. To hold me and never let go. You were supposed to please me. You had one job. To love me. To see only me. As your one and only.
But you forgot. You forgot about our love. You forgot about me. You got distracted. You chose your religion. You saw my pain. You saw me cry. You knew how much I hurt. But you chose your religion. Every single time. Your empty religion. Empty words. Swaying back and forth. No meaning. All by rote. Because it's all you knew. You couldn't think for yourself. You couldn't choose me. You chose your shell instead.
I was in the goddamn hospital for ten days. You thought I was going to die. How could you not hold my hand. How could you not comfort me. I was dying. I had no family. You were supposed to be my family. My support. My anchor. So you said tehillim. I needed your hand. I needed your love. Not for you to be the hero. Where were you. I needed you to hold me. So what if I was a fucking niddah. Do you think it was right for me to call the rabbi and beg him. To tell you to hold my hand. Is that how life is supposed to be. Is that what my life should look like. Is that the life I signed up for.
Do you think about me. Do you realize that you have damaged me. As you live your pretty little life. In your pretty little house.
How could let me go through that day. Have a friend scrub me in the shower. To get off all the hospital markings. As I throw up all over myself. Throwing up my pills. And then your goddamn mother comes to pick me up. Do you not feel guilty. Not at all. Or have you conveniently forgotten. And then your mother let me lay on the floor and all those women commented how cute it was that she brought me with her to work. Or how about when she helped me get undressed. Or how about when your mother walked me down the steps and helped me dunk in the goddamn water. Do you know what that does to a person. She let me dunk once. Because I was too sick to dunk more than once. And then she dressed me. There you were. Fucking waiting outside the side door with a wheelchair to wheel me home. As I throw up outside the shul. For all the men to see this pathetic woman in a wheelchair throwing up.
Do you think about that night. How I went to the mikvah sick as a dog just so you would take care of me. Does that sit with you. Did it ruin your life. Or did you forget. Did you move on. And then you threw me away. I let my soul go. I let it fly away. You watched it shrivel. And then you stepped on it. And you did all in the name of religion. A religion I don't subscribe to. No thank you. You can keep it.
And now what. I'm supposed to just move on. Forget. Live. Keep moving. Keep plugging away at this life. Where are those tears. Where is that religion. Why is the emptiness always there. Let the soul back in.
Not so easy.
You were supposed to protect me. Supposed to love me forever. Never supposed to leave my side. You were supposed to be my best friend. To love me. Forever. You were supposed to keep me. To hold me and never let go. You were supposed to please me. You had one job. To love me. To see only me. As your one and only.
But you forgot. You forgot about our love. You forgot about me. You got distracted. You chose your religion. You saw my pain. You saw me cry. You knew how much I hurt. But you chose your religion. Every single time. Your empty religion. Empty words. Swaying back and forth. No meaning. All by rote. Because it's all you knew. You couldn't think for yourself. You couldn't choose me. You chose your shell instead.
I was in the goddamn hospital for ten days. You thought I was going to die. How could you not hold my hand. How could you not comfort me. I was dying. I had no family. You were supposed to be my family. My support. My anchor. So you said tehillim. I needed your hand. I needed your love. Not for you to be the hero. Where were you. I needed you to hold me. So what if I was a fucking niddah. Do you think it was right for me to call the rabbi and beg him. To tell you to hold my hand. Is that how life is supposed to be. Is that what my life should look like. Is that the life I signed up for.
Do you think about me. Do you realize that you have damaged me. As you live your pretty little life. In your pretty little house.
How could let me go through that day. Have a friend scrub me in the shower. To get off all the hospital markings. As I throw up all over myself. Throwing up my pills. And then your goddamn mother comes to pick me up. Do you not feel guilty. Not at all. Or have you conveniently forgotten. And then your mother let me lay on the floor and all those women commented how cute it was that she brought me with her to work. Or how about when she helped me get undressed. Or how about when your mother walked me down the steps and helped me dunk in the goddamn water. Do you know what that does to a person. She let me dunk once. Because I was too sick to dunk more than once. And then she dressed me. There you were. Fucking waiting outside the side door with a wheelchair to wheel me home. As I throw up outside the shul. For all the men to see this pathetic woman in a wheelchair throwing up.
Do you think about that night. How I went to the mikvah sick as a dog just so you would take care of me. Does that sit with you. Did it ruin your life. Or did you forget. Did you move on. And then you threw me away. I let my soul go. I let it fly away. You watched it shrivel. And then you stepped on it. And you did all in the name of religion. A religion I don't subscribe to. No thank you. You can keep it.
Not so easy.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Cloudy
A cloud that follows you around. Daily. Hourly. Minute after minute. Refuses to abandon its post. It has been assigned to you since birth. Been very loyal. More loyal than most. The cloud follows you wherever you go. Never far behind. A cloud filled with sawdust. Filled with blood. Sometimes you think you've managed to escape. To hide. That you've managed to dodge the cloud. But it always, always finds you. Never gives you a breather. The cloud always finds you. Trails right behind you. If not immediately above you. Sometimes the cloud drifts far away. Sometimes it leaves for a long time. But the cloud always finds it's way back. The cloud will never leave. The cloud is constant. The cloud is reality.
The cloud is my comfort zone. It's my security blanket. I don't know how to live without it. I am naked when it leaves me. I am cold and alone without it. The truth is, I am vulnerable. That is my confession. And that is something most people will never hear me say. I am not that strong person everyone sees. That wall you all see was built to protect myself. From all the pain and heartache. The constant disappointment. Letdowns. The sadness. For the little girl who had no parents. Who had no love. Who now spends her life trying to pick up the pieces. Who spent her life being an extrovert and finally came to terms with reality that she was really an introvert. I am just a little girl. Stuck in a woman's body. Learning how to navigate this life. This world. With this cloud over my head.
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