Holidays: Take 39

It hurts to be excluded,  especially by those who claim to love you most. Yes, i take responsibility for pulling away, isolating myself & shutting down.

I feel so misunderstood by my siblings. I am trying my hardest to get "better". It's so damm hard to wanna be happy, to move alongside everyone else. I am giving 100% of everything in me to fight this. I am taking all the right steps. It never seems to be enough.

They will never understand how much it hurts to not get that invite. To find out everyone got together without me. They will never realize how much i needed them to reach out a little furthur, to give me a chance.

I am gonna try to power through Thanksgiving. I know i am blessed. Even in my weakest moments, i am beyond blessed. God is using me despite my glitch.

The year i waited.

The whirling of the fan seems extra loud and intrusive today.  I stretch & rub my eyes, every muscle in my body is tense & i am really having difficulty focusing on one thought of 100's racing through my brain.

Glancing outside i notice the leaves are finally starting to change..& falling a little. This time of year always leaves me feeling heavy & sad. I suppose i am always sad. right?

In January of this year, i made a promise to myself.  I would see this year through to the end. (Hey, i made it this far). I held on..honestly, to whatever that would keep me afloat.  Medicated, i think sometimes it is working. Then sometimes i am just so unsure & confused.

This world is weird & confusing & so hard to navigate, man. It's a massive chess game.(fyi. I suck at chess) Every move we make is so important & yet so meaningless.  I keep playing, learning, hoping to get better. I am no different than anyone else on this planet, allthough i feel different.

As this year is starting to wind down, i am a little scared.  I intend to keep the promise i made & will more than likely make a new promise on New years eve.

Survive i must.

The Double Life by Don Blanding

How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me
A Restless Me to drift and roam
A Quiet Me to stay at home.
A Searching One to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic Other One.

And that's just where the trouble lies;
There is a Restless Me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For arctic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell,
For lusty fun and raising Hell,

But shackled to that Restless Me
My Other Self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content
With hearth and home — dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well-loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks,

With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where…just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.

One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back.
I'm getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It's tough to have an idle brain)
But One says "Stay" and One says "Go"
And One says "Yes," and One says "No,"
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter's life.

The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins.

I'm still here.

Floating above it all. Out there. It seems i've absorbed all the negativity of the world. Inside me, swirling, no place to release it. Blocked from any joy, sunshine, any feeling of hope.

My eyes closed, i imagine when i open them, it might be different.  It isn't 

My mind feels like a deep dark pit. When i try to process, it echoes. I claw at the sides trying to make my way to the surface, only dirt falls in my face..no matter how much effort, i can't reach the opening.

I am in the world. A guy that sometimes smiles. Taking up a little spot amongst humankind. Moving with no precision.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived an enormous giant. He was at least ten feet tall, with a mop of red hair and a beard, and in his hand he carried a mighty axe.

Every year, on the same day, at the same time, the giant would walk down from the mountains which were his home, to stand outside the castle walls, terrorizing the inhabitants.

‘Come, send me your bravest man, I will fight him,’ the giant would shout, towering over the wall and waving his axe menacingly. ‘Send me someone to fight, or I will knock down your castle walls and kill everyone with my axe.

And every year, the gate in the castle wall would open slowly and fearfully, and one poor, valiant soul would walk out to face the foe and certain death.

‘Is this the best you can do?’ the giant would laugh mockingly. The poor wretch would stand, mesmerized by the enormity of the giant and the task in hand. Not one person had even managed to draw his sword, before the giant would crush them with his mighty fist, and chop them into tiny pieces with his axe.

But then one day, a young prince arrived in the town. ‘Why does everyone here look so frightened and sad?’ he asked a fellow traveler.

‘You haven’t seen the giant yet,’ replied the traveler.

‘What giant?’ asked the young prince, intrigued.

The traveler told the tale.

“Every year, on this very day, the giant arrives and challenges our bravest to a duel. And every year, he slays them exactly where they stand. They don’t even move or draw their swords. It’s as though the giant hypnotizes them.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said the young prince.

When the giant arrived late that day, the prince was waiting for him.

‘Come, send me your bravest man, and I will fight him,’ the giant shouted.

‘I am here,’ said the young prince, throwing open the gate, and striding out towards him.

For a moment, they stood and faced each other. Although the giant was still a long way away from him, the prince was instantly stuck by the sheer size and shocking appearance of his opponent.

But, summoning up all his courage, he started to walk towards the giant, brandishing his sword, and never taking eyes off that dreadful face with the red hair and red beard.

Suddenly, he realized that as he was walking, the giant – rather than appearing larger – actually began to shrink before his very eyes. He stopped and stared. The giant was only five feet tall.

He walked much closed to the giant, then stopped and stared. Now the giant was only two feet tall. He continued walking until he was face to face with the giant, and each step the prince took, he saw the giant shrink. By now the giant was so small, that he looked up at the young prince. He was only 12 inches tall.

The young prince took his sword, and plunged it into the giant’s heart.

As the giant lay dying on the ground, the young prince bent down and whispered to him, “Who are you?”

With his dying breath, the giant replied, ‘My name is Fear.’   -Margaret Perkin