Never To Return

I shouldn't be feeling this way. When you feel like you don't have the support from the one parent you thought would never let you down with their pettiness and unreasonable demands.

I'm trying my best. You'd never know I was hurting. You'd never know I feel like I'm falling apart. You would never know it unless I shared it with you.

As I sit here, I'm ready to let it all flow. I'm just afraid, it wouldn't be a peaceful stream but a gushing waterfall ...reaching for places I've never touched. I know it could be worse. It could all be worse. I'm just so unhappy. Ironically, I feel so dried up. 

I'm going to have my say. In this life. These moments are zipping by. If only I could slow it all down. I don't mean to be a party pooper. Please tell me though, where IS this party ? 

I screwed up somewhere. I took a wrong turn...a wrong turn I keep trying to make right. I've adorned the street with pretty flowers and lush greens. I managed to make ugly, beautiful. Do you know how much energy it took? I don't know if I have it in me anymore. I just don't know.

Get me out of here. Make it the last time I go and never to return. 

Hope Is Leaving

I'm going to change this trajectory before the universe figures out I'm taking too long and decides to create some havoc in order to make this change happen. 

I had a horrifying thought this morning or was it in the middle of the night? I broke down in tears thinking about all the ways I can't be my parents daughter. I know I'm their daughter but this feeling that envelops me every time I'm around them projects a kind of other worldly reality. Not fantasy. I feel big. Large. Wide. Tall. Expansive. 

I don't require their comfort in times of sorrow. I don't require their acceptance when I'm feeling rejected. It feels like I'm operating from two places simultaneously - here on earth and from the ether. 

It's not that I don't belong. It's that they don't 'fit' with me. I don't fit with them. I have to shift spaces around inside me to have a relationship with them that I can feel proud to say they're my parents and I, their daughter. But then I ask, "Who am I"?

Oh God, I see all the ways my mother suffers. I have it, too, a kind of suffering that never leaves, embedded in my very being. I need to transform it. She's resigned to it. But there are times, like me, I see how badly she wants to break free except unlike her, I know what it looks like...to be free. 

My father is so small now. He keeps comparing himself to the pope - how he's the kindest person, how he envies and despises no one. He keeps insisting he's a good person. He yells it in the hopes we hear him. I just cry a little cry from within because it's obvious he's dealing with a sadness he doesn't know how to express...maybe even one he doesn't fully recognize is dictating his reactions. 

It kills me, as it strengthens me. How can that be? How did it come to this? I hate having to admit that's all there is, all there'll ever be. Do you get that? There is no more growing upward and forward. It's moving forward only to head backwards, downwards, into the grave. Hope is leaving this place.