MeliGoesRogue

Have you ever noticed that gratitude is something that needs to be “practiced”.

Fear, disappointment and longing come like the HDMI cord with a TV but the rest needs to be setup, password and all.

I have had such big moments this “birth year”. So much I have overcome and accomplished and yet what I focus on are the things that are still pending. The oasis in the desert.

Yes I need to be grateful and proud of the accomplishments that decorate my resume. As the woman who bled said “ I believe; help me in my unbelief”

Do you know what depression looks like. It’s having so much and only being able to see what you don’t have. All the tangible things I can obtain; a house, dogs a career but the constant needs are the intangibles. Love, security etc.

I often blame myself. It would be inaccurate and unfair to not admit that most if not all of my self worth comes from what I can offer a man. Not my heart, my cooking skills or even my love but rather my fingers against their back. My body for their desires. But I swear I don’t know my way out. I swear that I try but the feeling and fear of loneliness and solitude is a pull much larger than any self preservation i thought I had. I’ve even bartered away part of my mind in the hopes that it would be the cement that would allow tall building to stand upon. Yet all I am is a vacant lot with a for sale sign dug in its dirt.

I find myself apologizing for these feelings as if they are switches I can flick and buttons I can press. I can not say why my mind perceives things this way. Perhaps this is why thoughtful gifts and their reactions mean so much to me, because they actually take so much of me to give.

It’s hard to worry about the feelings of other and assure them that my sadness is not ingratitude.

Sometimes I believe that if the bible is true and this desire for children is from God than surely the man whose seed will give them to me is sure to follow. Yet soon after I find that perhaps that is my apple, something I covet and desire not because it is nourishing but because it seems forbidden in a sense.

I called my sister the other day and warned her I was on the brink of a spiral downwards. It was the first time in so long that I cracked the peephole. From the depths of her heart she gave to me. Her time, her resources and her love…how it kills me that it’s not enough. It’s like taking water out of the ocean using a dropper. Her heart is appreciated but I have set her against a task she can’t possibly complete. Perhaps she knows, maybe she doesn’t but the image flashes of the care of her heart sitting on the edge of the water with her dropper taking what she can out even if it’s 1/1,000,000,000th of the depths.

I sit in my bed lady sleeping with her head on my lap and Jax snoring away and I realize how much I desperately wish a fairy Godmother would come and turn then into children. Most likely it is my impending birthday that has reminded me of the road still left to travel. Quizás It’s why my dear sister has put forth this effort to memorialize not only the day of my birth but the things I have accomplished since I emerged from the womb.

My God how I honor her. How I hate that I didn’t honor her sooner. How I hate to admit that the years lost between us were because I could not see past the jealousy I had for what was Hers. I never wanted to take it from her that much I swear but it made me wonder what in me was so inadequate that no one could help me bear fruits of love.

Sometimes I don’t know if I believe in God. Oddly enough not because of he horrible things I have endured but rather because of the rewards it seems he has kept from my grasp.

I miss you. Not your presence but this connection I always believed we had. It’s not even your fault, I don’t even know if it’s mine. We are sometimes just different and our depths have changed. I want to go where the water is too dark to see and you go to the darkness with a flashlight. I didn’t even start this for you. I started it for me but no matter what sometimes I feel your the only one who reads with his heart even if it might be gone in the morning.

My heart tugs at my eyelids reminded me of the sleep we have lacked this week and how if soon our eyes won’t shut the terrors will come and then I’ll be left with scratches on my back and torn confetti in my heart. Their snoring has enticed me to seek my own even if it’s a hopeless journey filled with stories of lavender and Provenće.