Ramblings of a Woman: Colourless Now
My life lost its colour. I am a lot to blame. I do not know what I did to him to want him to want me gone. I may never know. I will have to live with that. I am not believing in love for me these days.
Well-meaning folks who I know care say the kindest things. I smile, try to believe in the words they say… but I really cannot hold onto to the hope or faith I had in love. For others yes. Just not for me.
I will grieve myself sick, I already am. I detest being this person. But it is a process “they say”. I only have a hope and will to keep going for my daughters sake. She is the one constant in my life. I know she loves and needs her Mum.
So I keep doing what I can to be here and to try to hold onto to the “brighter” times I have as I swing like an insane pendulum from Hope for a Future For Her. To the depths of a grief I have never felt before; not even when my marriage ended. I never loved my husband as much as I DO this man.
Shining (Dimly) In The Dark,
Please know I do not write to get attention or to garner sympathy. I write to hold on to my sanity. I write. I am a writer. I am a hurting person yes, but I am not a drama queen or attention seeker.
Ramblings of a Minx: I Want a Do-Over
You wake up feeling life is off kilter somehow. That you are okay but really you are not. You try to do the right thing, then feel/think you did things all wrong. So you try to do things right, set things right… still not sure if you are doing things right. So you just shut up hoping that is the right thing to do. After all all you feel like you are doing is putting your foot in your mouth, maybe it is best to shut your mouth.
Vicious bloody cycles.
Meanwhile, you find out have close friends who are grieving the loss of their Mums, impending losses too of their Moms. It brings it all back losing your own Mother. The hole in your head aches. No one to talk to so you just think and try to not cry like kid.
You think about Writing but your thoughts are scattered “hither to yon”. You want to Do Something Useful, but you feel innervated by the grief. So, *sighs here* you do some firm Self-Talk “Okay You, It is time to get your bum up and clean, and cook dinner or it is sandwiches again,:
Writing later I hope, well maybe. Or… Maybe tonight is a good night for my daughters and I to share some laughter.
I need a vacation from my thoughts. ;)
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. (Psalms 30:5)”
Your grief is as great as your splendor was:
some god is weighing the one out equal to the other.