I live in the moment. I'm a compulsive shopper (not in a bad way, just know what I like when I see it) I breathe deep, deeper... because you never know when that might be the last breath you take. As much as I hate Indiana, I breathed deep in the humid, stifling air on my last walk with the husband. I appreciated the stillness of the night, and the dark canvas of the sky... illuminated by stars galore. This was a selfish intake of air, in a good and bad way. I appreciated the walk, considering taking a walk with my husband only six months ago would have triggered an onslaught of panic attacks and a trip to the ER. It's a slow walk, not for exercise, only for leisure. I want to walk faster and help melt away the 30 pounds I've gained since moving there. He grabs my arm and asks me to slow down, and I do. I breathe in again, capturing the offensive odor of moldy cornfields infiltrating the air. If I remember this smell, when I return to Washington the sweet air of home will be so overpowering, it will be sweeter then I ever remembered.
I don't mention this, this habit has become routine for me, and now it is an unconscious act, only identified in a moment such as now.
I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you when I was young. I loved you, but I never knew how awesome you really were.
I'm sorry for getting irritated, even today. I can't help myself, but I am doing better to hide it. I love you so much my heart spasms in pain that my irritations consume any thought that I have towards you. My every waking moment with you should be confession of love, gratitude, and respect.
I love you all more today than I ever have before. I don't know what I'd do if I lost any one of you.
I'm sorry I wasn't here to see you grow up, be here to drive you to school. If I could go back today, and change anything-- I would have mentored you, loved you more, and been more accepting.
You are the most wonderful, loving, generous, and wise man I have ever known. Not just because you were my dad, but because you are. The sacrifice you have made to our family will pass down through the generations, and your wisdom will be reflected upon and received by many. Your joy in the little aspects of life are precious, and I want to be more like you. You strive to live for the Lord, and you set a wondrous example of a Christ-like spirit.
I'm sorry I have said the hurtful things that I have. My heart grieves over that. My anguish and frustration in not accomplishing anything turned in to a desperate attempt to make you hear me. Please forgive me, I have been wrong.
I still won't ever love nor accept her. She has hurt me beyond all belief, but I am slowly healing-- and not hating her as much. I can't do it right now. I cannot accept someone who has pained me so. I just wish you had protected me.
You have failed me in so many areas... but I will not resent you so much. It's been slow for me, to get to that point (in not resenting you so) but I am making as best an effort as possible. Please be patient with me, as I have been with you.
Finally, Lord. I'm sorry I've grown heartless and cold. I'm sorry that I've lost heart... I've tried, but it's been so hard. My heart aches. Loss of time, the friends I've lost, memories never made, and obsessing over what could have been. Please give me strength for the days ahead. Just for today, and a passion for tomorrow.
When I breathe in the air next time, I will rejoice in the moment. A moment not lost, but given to me. Even if I am experiencing it alone... (my greatest travesty) I know that I am with you.
Jul 19, 2010
Jul 16, 2010
lost art...
Geez, why even write on here? Honestly, I wouldn't want anyone I know or care about to read this stuff anyhow. My words are raw and perhaps a bit too honest...
It's been a long time, my friend. I speak to no-one, but writing has always been a friend and receiving of me. I don't write nearly as I did in my youth, I guess it's an art form that dies when not used. Kind of like drawing. Or conversation. Thinking. Yes, the brain grows weak and adapts to the environment and company it is immersed with. That being said, being surrounded by idiots (liberals, hoosiers, ect) causes seemingly irreparable brain function loss.
Ok, not all Hoosiers are idiots. 50% are idiots. 40% are ignorant and so poorly educated that I feel the need to dumb myself down to converse. 9% are kind, adventurous, and interesting-- unfortunately, they have all either left the state or are in the process of doing just that. That leaves the remaining 1% of Hoosiers that I have not met. I don't know where they are or how to find them. Maybe they are poor, misplaced souls like myself who live draped over their AC in the home and their dog is the best company they've got.
If you can't tell, I hate Indiana. In 10 years, you can ask me where all I've lived and I'll list the states off... Washington, Oregon, Texas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and heck, I'll even say Iraq. I'd prefer to not recall Indiana and the (hopefully only a) few years wasted of my life in the wretched state.
Ok, I'm not an entirely miserable person. My life has actually improved some within the past year. I've had to fight every inch of better I've obtained, it hasn't been easy.
Kenny has improved allot. Health wise, that is. Still some PTSD, but hey, we can actually go to Walmart now without me wondering if I'll have to abandon the cart and spend the night in the ER with the poor boy. Sitting in church is still difficult, it's hard enough for myself much for Kenny. I don't care for malls, and he hasn't stepped foot in one since he's been home.
I am now pursuing a degree in art, which oddly enough was a default to social work. Don't get me wrong, my grades were just fine in social work... I just didn't have the interest anymore.
My health has deteriorated quite a bit since living in Indiana. The arthritis in my knees is worse. (the constant click-click-POP!) of my knees drives me insane. The pain is pretty intense as well. Thankfully, the nights where I wake up from my sleep crying and screaming from the pain is not often anymore.
I just pray that the Lord will heal me of this arthritis... I can live with Chrons, but I need my joints and every limb. I have many mountains yet to hike, and beaches to run. God knows the Pacific Northwest is one of my greatest joys... I need my health.
The Lord has blessed me. Through trial and error, I finally see a light at the end of this journey that pretty much began in 2003, when I joined the military. I just wait for the day I can pack my stuff, dog, ferrets, husband, and head back to my home. Own a home, maybe with a little property... and start a family near my family. Not too much to ask, right? Seems hard enough right now.
So, as the early morning closes in on 0320, I will end this. Not for anyone, but for myself. Home is sweet, despite sleeping on the futon and this AC lacking house. The sweet pine-scented air, salt-tinted ocean breeze, and the love of my family breathes life into this weary soul.
It's been a long time, my friend. I speak to no-one, but writing has always been a friend and receiving of me. I don't write nearly as I did in my youth, I guess it's an art form that dies when not used. Kind of like drawing. Or conversation. Thinking. Yes, the brain grows weak and adapts to the environment and company it is immersed with. That being said, being surrounded by idiots (liberals, hoosiers, ect) causes seemingly irreparable brain function loss.
Ok, not all Hoosiers are idiots. 50% are idiots. 40% are ignorant and so poorly educated that I feel the need to dumb myself down to converse. 9% are kind, adventurous, and interesting-- unfortunately, they have all either left the state or are in the process of doing just that. That leaves the remaining 1% of Hoosiers that I have not met. I don't know where they are or how to find them. Maybe they are poor, misplaced souls like myself who live draped over their AC in the home and their dog is the best company they've got.
If you can't tell, I hate Indiana. In 10 years, you can ask me where all I've lived and I'll list the states off... Washington, Oregon, Texas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and heck, I'll even say Iraq. I'd prefer to not recall Indiana and the (hopefully only a) few years wasted of my life in the wretched state.
Ok, I'm not an entirely miserable person. My life has actually improved some within the past year. I've had to fight every inch of better I've obtained, it hasn't been easy.
Kenny has improved allot. Health wise, that is. Still some PTSD, but hey, we can actually go to Walmart now without me wondering if I'll have to abandon the cart and spend the night in the ER with the poor boy. Sitting in church is still difficult, it's hard enough for myself much for Kenny. I don't care for malls, and he hasn't stepped foot in one since he's been home.
I am now pursuing a degree in art, which oddly enough was a default to social work. Don't get me wrong, my grades were just fine in social work... I just didn't have the interest anymore.
My health has deteriorated quite a bit since living in Indiana. The arthritis in my knees is worse. (the constant click-click-POP!) of my knees drives me insane. The pain is pretty intense as well. Thankfully, the nights where I wake up from my sleep crying and screaming from the pain is not often anymore.
I just pray that the Lord will heal me of this arthritis... I can live with Chrons, but I need my joints and every limb. I have many mountains yet to hike, and beaches to run. God knows the Pacific Northwest is one of my greatest joys... I need my health.
The Lord has blessed me. Through trial and error, I finally see a light at the end of this journey that pretty much began in 2003, when I joined the military. I just wait for the day I can pack my stuff, dog, ferrets, husband, and head back to my home. Own a home, maybe with a little property... and start a family near my family. Not too much to ask, right? Seems hard enough right now.
So, as the early morning closes in on 0320, I will end this. Not for anyone, but for myself. Home is sweet, despite sleeping on the futon and this AC lacking house. The sweet pine-scented air, salt-tinted ocean breeze, and the love of my family breathes life into this weary soul.
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