Trying to stop the Coast

I don’t recall experiencing such highs and such lows, one after the other, in all my life.

Soaring for days, for weeks even, and then plummeting in an instant. Finding self in the dark caves of insecurity with self abosrbed and self hating rocks in all the tunnels.

How the hell did I get here?

I’m stretching out my arms, with my fingertips trembling for any sort of sense.

But the thing is, it all does. It makes sense why I’m here, how I’m here and why I feel the way I do. Well, that part gets me a bit confused. I’m not really sure why I reach very low points. Other then the reason I’m going through  a divorce and I’m terrified about what happens to my child in the future. Sort of a lack of control. Future does have you behind the controls to some extent and even though I still do-I can afterall, control my behaviour, my actions and try and steer my feelings accordenly-  it feels that all of a sudden life has dropped the drive to go forward and I’m coasting towards a giant brick wall.

My desire to see friends wanes. I know they’ll make me happy but when I reach low, it’s hard to even want to be happy. Self Pity. Oh what a deadly thing.

 

 

 

 

Firsty

Tomorrow my three year old son goes on a train for the first time in his life.

Here is what I wrote on First times 4 years ago:

It’s long, but scroll to the end to get the point.

First Times

Trip to Happy.

When people come back home to visit their family and friends, whether they are driving training or planeing, hours and effort need to be considered.

It is common for us all to say that we are busy, we’ve been busy, had so many jobs to get done;you and I have both said as much. It is easy to and partially true. We DO get busy.

But here’s the silly and obvious catch. Not always are we busy with what we want to be busy with, but when we are not busy with those responsabilities, where does our time go?

We choose it, right?

We’ll spend time with what makes us happy won’t we.

Alas, I feel this only holds the majority of truth, not all.

Maybe it’s not always happy organizing a trip. It can be work and tiring. Stressfull. It could possibly create conflict between you and traveling companion. There must be a pull. Must be a happy in that place to be visited. Family.Friends.

In turn, allowing any outsider to look at you and understand that your willingness and determination in trips home, means a devotion and drive for your happy. Which could be different then family and friends of course but I’m focusing on that reason.

 

When I see people visiting there home places, wherever they are coming from, it shows me that bonds between people do exist, and that a pursuement of happy is a reality and that humans do have the ability to motivate others, even if it unknown and unintentional.

Quite frankly,making this planet a brighter place.

 

They Are Back There

My parents are back in the place I lived in for five years.

Just for a vacation.
Five years of my teaching and drinking and having child and marriage and being and learning the living.
They are in the midst, my mothers skirts brushing at the strokes of my history. My fathers golf swing smothering the memories and moments of mine.

It is strange. They to be meeting with my ex husband. For him to give them a box and for him to give them papers.

It all feels strange. And unreal.
Is this my life or anothers.

So Tell It

We’ll all talk splatter talk and figure our art is aligned with the ninety four stars we count on Sunday nights.

We’ll all understand that hurt and trial and ache is a shit part of breathing and that it doesn’t align with anything except happiness.

 

We’ll all know that happiness is what makes life worth living and without happy coinsiding with levels of pain, happy wouldn’t exist and thus, sadness is a completion of a circle and without it, life would fucking suck.

At least we’ll tell ourselves that in the bad times.
And we’ll believe it even in the good.

Because that’s what life particles are about.
Making your mind believe anything.
Because it can and it will.

Anything you tell it.

Four Years

This month four years ago, I started this blog.

When I read back over some posts I typed then, my heart races. It takes me right back to those thin moments and days so few, before finding out I was to be Mother.

Curves my insides in.

Welcome Twenty Sixteen.
May you be good to me, and I to you.