melancholic tails

feeling caged

internally enraged

the blank page

bona fide disengage

the voice timorous

over exposed experience

plagued by indifference

chasing deliverance

black nails

caught in details

when love fails

melancholic tails

six

Being the retrospective type, I feel compelled to mark this day, August 3 with words.
Today is the sixth anniversary of Daniel's suicide and while I am looking at it as "just another day", it does feel a little strange to be at home, sitting in the house where the final act took place. The years have created a distance that makes it ok to sit with this.

As anyone who has experienced trauma would tell you, the lead up to the anniversary brings with it a certain amount of anxiety.  This was me on Saturday.  An uncomfortable feeling of being lost, on edge and uneasy.  I couldn't write, I couldn't paint, I struggled to get dressed to go up to street to buy food.  Surprisingly, I baked an amazing dinner and managed to stay up past 7pm to watch a movie.  In all honesty though, I just wanted the day to be over so that I could start a fresh on Sunday.  Which I did.  Sunday morning I woke up knowing that I needed change.  The time had come for me to take the power back!  By that I mean, accepting the past for what it is and this date as a reminder of true horror that shaped me BUT I needed to reclaim this time in the land of the living.  The day is new and I am in it (whereas he is not), so I chose to own it. 

Me being me, it started with a new hair colour.  With the anxiety starting to sneak up on me, I knew that I couldn't have a repeat of Saturday.  Luckily for me, I knew that there was a free unplugged session on at the Ian Potter Centre (part of the National Gallery).  I was going on my own which was perfect as I just wanted to immerse myself in the moment.  There was something so powerful about hearing the beautiful vocals of Megan Washington be absorbed into the gallery walls.  She is a humble and inspiring woman.  Again, me being me, got my fan girl moment and had a brief chat with her about the relief one feels when the flow of writing returns and girls being girls, we rambled on about hair. Ha! This was the remedy I was looking for.

Today...
I woke up early wishing that this day didn't exist.  Not because I am upset about it but rather that I don't like the power it has over me, that it demands that i think about it, acknowledge it and validate it's importance.  Urgh!  Get up, get dressed, do make up and depart the house.  I met up with my lovely cousin for a chai latte and wandered around the shops. Normal. A few texts of support and I felt ok.  Normal.  Drove around, had a quick chat with a friend who called to make sure all was good (considering the date).

.......The time when we found him has just ticked over.  I thought it would be appropriate to have a glass of wine in memory. This is the first time in six years that I have been in the house at this time, on this day.  Normally I avoid it like the plague.  This year I thought I would confront that because all it really does it maintain the anxiety. Guess what... there is nothing to be anxious about.  That day and that horror has passed and finally it has found a place in my heart where it has nestled in to stay but it is a safe and sacred place that I feel strong enough to carry. Yes, I have my days but today is not one of them.  When they come, as distressing as they are, I know they pass.  Today I get to choose to not to try and relive that day, minute by minute.  Of course, it's there but I know engaging in the memory served no purpose.

Here is the proof of me (being ok) from earlier today. I am happy.  I could not have come this far without some of you (you know who you are and you know how much I love, adore and value you).  What you probably don't know is that I draw on your spirit often, more so on the days that are full of the bleak, the morose and the damn right miserable.  You keep me grounded, you keep me smiling, you keep me striving to challenge my comfort zone.  You keep me wanting more.  You don't know how much I truly love and appreciate......you.  Thank you. Xx

in the afterglow...

seems so easy in the afterglow

could let myself fall for you

i'm powerless, i think you know

it's in the love we share

intense in your stare

run my fingers through your hair

i cannot prepare

for the connection extraordinaire

as boundless as the sea

you taste like freedom

a home i'd rather be

insidious deciduous

the apathy insidious

how could i care?

in August deciduous

why did you dare?

i'm no longer furious

I've seen it all before

it's seasonally tedious

walking through this door

with anniversary #6 upon me, today i have found myself floored. my usually sarcastic witty self has stepped aside while the apathy has taken centre stage.  this is what happens a few days before my birthday every year now. because it was 10 days after my 35th birthday that everything changed. forever. the anniversary of a beloved to suicide is shitful (for lack of a better word).  it always will be.  

of course, not everything is bad these days, actually my life is probably the best it has been in a very long time but the challenges i face pull at my heartstrings and i tire easily. X

a holiday from my heart....

I had a holiday from my heart

There was peace & there was quiet

A retreat to restart

To incubate the riot

For life is a battlefield

We're on the front line

And love is our shield

We are united, divine.

There is often a wall, albeit protective, that stops you from experiencing the very things that makes you whole. It was recently said to me that my vulnerabilities are my strengths. I hadn't thought about it in this way before but I believe it is true for all of us.  It is an ultimate act of trust in yourself and your ability to allow.

This year, thus far, I have in part, blocked the connections to my heart.  Not for a fear but out of exhaustion.  Grief and building a life after trauma is tiresome. The stigma, drama & PTSD is something that nobody chooses but is dealt.  It isn't me but is a part of me.  It has brought me wisdom, courage and ties to life that I am forever grateful for.  I look at things differently than those who have not suffered great loss and the view can be intense and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be a clueless git that doesn't have a care in the world.

The people in my life today are all courageous and have strength that inspires me.  I don't have much tolerance or time for the flippant type. In saying that though, they too can bring you gifts of awareness and I thank them for that whilst I keep on walking by. 

Today I am grateful for all that have both hindered and helped me. 

How have you accepted your vulnerabilities recently?.........

ed

the suffering and the silence

your voice is always here

the bat shit and the boredom

your voice is loud and clear

tender hooks

to die for looks

sneaky nooks

you're on the books

i am tired of your games

seductive as they be

you want to change the world

but you cant change me

restless sleep

connection's deep

talk is cheap

my soul to keep

you say you want a piece of me

famous last words i know

we're both aware of the lie

for you thrive within the low

decrease retreat

obsess deplete

tears defeat

rinse repeat

monotony, the great slayer

6:30 on a Sunday eve, sipping on a glass of red, listening to tracks that 'should' inspire words in an attempt to get back to writing.  It has been too long and while the absence has given me the space to look at things from a different angle, I know that there is an element of avoidance.  Do you do that?  Do you ever take a break from things and dance to a different beat (as some might say) but know, deep down that there is something missing?  Something that you know you 'should' be doing?  It could be anything but it is there and it nags at you.
I posted on my Facebook page for Musings last week a quote from Anais Nin.  For those that missed it, here it is....

It's been on my mind and it got me thinking about the robotic habit of life that we all get into at times and the restlessness I have been feeling recently.  Lord knows that I have had my share of things to shake me, awaken me and yet I still fall into that existence where the immediate becomes everything.  The 9-5, the bills, the chores and the sometimes suffocating drama of humans. These days I think I am more astute and will take the necessary steps to save my own skin.  Because, in my mind, monotony is to be feared, it is the slayer of passion, of all individualism and the reason (whatever it is) to continue living. 

In an effort to confront the slayer (aka, monotony) I ask myself, why is it that I avoid doing something that appears to be a passion?  For me, it is because passion (this passion in particular) hurts.  I need it but every emotion becomes inflamed, it leaves me vulnerable, raw and open.  It is those very things that I fall in love with.  I ache for them.  They break me and breath oxygen into me at the very same time.  Avoidance is a false vacation.  I know this. Sometimes I like to pretend and play the part of the character without a care, not a true care anyway. It's not just me though right?  We all have that one thing (or maybe a few things) that we love that fucking breaks our hearts simultaneously.  It is overwhelming and consuming.  When it gets like this, I need to escape.

This weekend I drove. A lot.
I was drawn to the ocean.
I had to feel that warm sand in my toes only to be cooled by the water washing over them.
I had to see the blue in the sky and the water.
I had to cry.
I had to be in the moment.
I had be submissive to the sun on my skin.  
I had to have music become part of me.  
I had to remember and I had to forget. 
I had to hold on and let go.  
I had to see the contrast.  
I had to feel the contrast.  
I HAD TO.  It was beyond want.

For me I needed that vast open space with no other human breathing down my neck.  The open space, the quiet and the grounding realisation that the world is wide.  We are not now or ever stuck in our ruts, no matter how much we feel that we are.  Feelings are not facts, sometimes I need the reminder.

Sunday night is a good time for reflection.  Most of us have had two glorious days to 'dance to our own beat'.

How was your weekend?