Sit down and write something once a week
How hard is that? But then the brain overwhelms itself, or me rather
Mom? Dad? Lost friends? Lost time?
Strength training to mitigate perimenopause only to over do it like everything else and end up sad and in pain
It’s the bills, the kids, the appointments, the classes, the meetings, the dogs, the dog park
It’s the weather and the hormones and the color of the sky and nothing feels right - or familiar - or mine - or me
Where am I? How did we get HERE - and why aren’t you here dad? Mom? How could you leave me here ALONE here
Like a lost kid in a clothing store unable to see over the clothing racks, searching for safety for home for anything familiar and grounding
Death feels familiar and I hate that
And when will the dog next door stop barking
When will the kids stop fighting
When will I be able to just…breathe
And be alive without feeling the marching feet of time
Time that goes to quickly, I always worried it would, and it has and it will
And one day, will be the last day
And what then
Who will water the plants, feed the dogs, take out the trash or do the laundry
Does any of it matter? Did any of it ever matter?
I miss you. I miss the dysfunction. I miss there being the chance to change, to make it better - because we didn’t, did we?
And now nothing is better and nothing is fine, but I hold that, it’s not your pain anymore, it’s mine
If you could read my mind, why didn’t you
Why was it saved for the last spark - the spark that time put out before I could even enjoy the light
And it’s ranting and raving, and internal fucking chaos and maybe that’s what you wanted
Maybe not
But it’s what you left me with to carry on
To do the dishes and pack the lunches and have the playdates and bed time and shouting and tears and anger
Anger that I don’t want to pass on but it feels impossible because I already see it in her eyes, the disappointment that’s been brewing since the world shut down
Or maybe before
Maybe I never could be more
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