Endings

It's broken with my family...

both of them...

like it's broken with my exes

like it's broken with many former friends. 

When trust is destroyed

absolutely and utterly gutted, 

hacked, burned to the ground

by other's carelessness or

their pathological, destructive need

for control

Despite 

my begging and efforts

any and all professional 

and 

personal resources and efforts

not to mention the all-too-oft

abject debasement and humiliation...

once that trust is cut,

is sundered, 

is cauterized

I don't know how to fix it or 

put it back together.

Trust is like 

the spinal cord of 

a relationship.

It can take a lot of insult and injury.

But once it's cut...

there seems to be no way to 

stitch that back together, 

to heal, 

to restore

no matter how 

allegedly willing 

all parties are.

Even spiritual intervention 

doesn't seemed to matter.

Which, curiously, suggests that 

that sundering 

may be a part of
self-care

personal growth

enlightenment

I can't fake it

I can't feign that 

things are okay

or getting better 

or healing

when I am surrounded by

and 

all I can see is

scorched-earth 

in all directions 

as far as the horizon.

I am weary of
emotionally bleeding out
every time I try.

The energy and the injury is too much

and I won't pretend

or try

anymore.

The eternal question

Curled up on the star-lit back patio

in an oversized zero gravity chair

on a fabulously comfortable bright cushion,

mesmerised  by the citronella candles

flickering in the fire pit,

I consider my contentment,

my delight at being alone

in this perfectly ordered world of mine.

Truly, I am very relaxed and happy.


So why, oh why,

does a tiny corner of my mind wish that...

I could be sharing this evening peace

with a partner?


It's my perfect evening.


What would be the point of screwing it up?

Monuments

Graveyard of past relationships

trash heap/protective coloring

pompous monument to his ego

impregnable shell over superficial self

Get screwed

He kept a lot of my stuff.

So I kept a lot of his stuff.

One of those items was

a very nice rechargeable screwdriver.

The real irony of it all is

how much I have utilized it

to remove all traces of him 

from my home.

I sure feel a lot of glee

every time I charge it

and

use it. 

Lots of satisfaction in

throwing out piles of wood and signs 

brackets and screws, gates and furniture 

other assorted detritus....

Less and less of that trash all the time

but keeping

the tool.

Signs, symbols, and spiritual experiences

I dress, contemplating the wonder

of being able to dress

of having decent, properly fitting clothing

of getting enough sleep to have some energy and peace

of my commitment to meds and self care

   to make all of the above happen.

Life story: abuse and neglect lead to addiction and mental illness.

I totally get blamed by others for all aspects of the the life story

but get no credit for the miracle...

the miracle, for me, being recovery from the life story.

Maybe the marvel of all this is how it is supposed to be, for normies

but to me

it is still amazing, to be alive and functional and content

instead of half-suicidal, emotionally paralyzed, and insanely angry/depressed.

Driving to work

I consider the blue truck in front of me

driven by a woman

who has felt compelled to arm her windows and bumpers

with female-themed, gun-related stickers and clings,

assuring the world she is 'packing' and a lifelong 'terrorist'.

I think of the solitary vinyl adornment on the liftgate of my car:

     c-o-e-x-i-s-t

the letters intertwined with symbols of various world religions

and marvel at the differences of gender, background, and belief.

And all of this...sign posts from my Higher Power,

leading

   instructing

     soothing

       healing

         enlightening.

becoming ii

Time, my time, is so 

incredibly precious to me.

Every minute I have on my own

Is necessary to charge 

my internal batteries and sense of self

especially after the delightful, 

and yes, necessary,

interactions of friends and work and family  and recovery.

I love them and need them all, 

but they drain me so....

Not to mention the time needed 

to recover from 50 plus years of 

not recognizing or meeting 

my own need for that recharging, 

let alone the unawareness, 

not to mention the blatant disrespect and disinterest of many others of that need

(even when expressly and explicitly stated) 

many of whom were often recklessly responsible for drawing that inside battery down to zero.

Weekends are now times of blissful quiet

setting my own schedule

making unilateral decisions

with no regard needed or desired for others' requests or desires

Just my own are now in the equation

So joyful and satisfying 

to love and respect myself 

on a level that I never have 

or even knew I should or could

before now