I feel like I needed to escape a lot of drama in my life at one point and I needed to find peace even if that meant cutting a lot of people I cared about out.
But the past starts to feel too far away.
And where they were in me, there is this hollow.
I can’t completely move on and I can’t go back either.
I have become so good at existing, and focusing on the moment. As though my life were some Zen book. So many work to achieve the empty state, clear your mind.
I have found that freedom, and why do I want my chains back?
I look in the distance and see an empty.
Life isn’t that is it? It’s the connections we have that matter, we are connected and you can’t just sever that I don’t think, not anymore.
Otherwise one drifts in an endless sea of what?
Maybe I have a low grade depression, like a low grade cold, one of those colds that lasts for months that people with weak immune systems get, but it isn’t obtrusive, the tickle the cough, the snot, all small enough to barely register.
Or maybe this is what life is supposed to feel like.
I grew knowing about depression when puberty hit. Heh who didn’t?
But I didn’t experience normal often, it was all swings like some wide rocking pendulum that just couldn’t cool, couldn’t relax. Now maybe I have finally found it, and I want to reject it outright because it is too unfamiliar as though I were stepping on alien territory.
Whatever it is, the one nice thing is that unlike before, I know I can live this way.
And when I feel a little odd I focus on goals, my kids, husband or just getting out of the house for a bit for a walk or something. And as I chug along, pretty soon I am feeling fine again.
I realize that my worth amounts to more then what others think of me. And if others words hurt me, and I decide that they are wrong, then I can choose to believe my own words instead. This is one of the beautiful things about growing up. There is a power that can be taken back, or maybe it is gained.
Forgetting what it felt like to be around someone you care about though is a really hard and troubling thing. And often you realize that no matter how someone has hurt you or made you mad, that in these times where they are gone and you forget the feeling of their hand on your shoulder or what how you felt when they entered the room and started talking to you- that these are things are moments that defined you and as they slip away, the pieces of yourself do to.
So I guess in closing, no matter which way you go. There is both sorrow and joy. And even when one can find a way out, there is something lost, but there is also something gained. And probably it can never be truly measured.