Saturday, October 26, 2013


I am two people.  I am not sure of the exact moment when the division occurred; It must not have been violent; It must have been gradual.  Yet, I can think of handfuls of moments and events that could be that right moment: the one I could point to and say, “That’s when I changed.  That’s when half of me faded almost to non-perception."  

And, half of my life, for the last few years, I almost completely forget that an important part of me exists at all... Almost. There is still a whisper in my mind telling me I’m missing.  Look for her.  She is here.  The specter torments me.  This half,  the part writing this at this moment, doesn’t want to be alive.  I don’t want to exist.  I want the whisper to go silent.  I don’t want to hear it anymore.  I don’t want to be reminded of who I was, or who I could be.  I’m not.  I can’t.

When I am here, I have so little time--So very little time to find everything that I have lost.  Where’s my heart?  Where is my determination?  Where is my purpose?  Where is my fire?  You see, I always run out of time. I have to start all over again.  There is never enough time.  I never find what I’m looking for.  Yes, I think I’m crazy.  But it seems like a million artists have composed songs, written poems and novels and plays, or crafted paintings that reflect this dichotomy--This feeling of emptiness or loss of part of who we were.

And, gosh darn it, there is this in between as I move from awareness from one me to the other, where I question if this is just my PMDD nightmare, or if it is something more?  If it is something more, than I can change it.  I must have time.

And then, something happens... just now!  Snap out of it.  I am one.  (It is so perfectly timed in my body, I could write down the exact minutes, sometimes, that the lifting of apathy and lethargy begins).  As I am writing, Sam comes downstairs, frustrated that Stella will not settle down for bed.  I put down the computer, and quietly walk upstairs, holding her hand.  I snuggle her with her three favorite blankets, then lay next to her.   

My Baby Boy

Now, Michael has always been easy to sing to sleep. I run my fingers through his thick hair, down around his ears, and along his neck.  I “tickle-rub” his back and arms with my fingernails…  I sing him American Pie (yes, I know all the words) most nights, and he drifts off, ever so peacefully.  (I often think his future significant other will have her work cut out for her, because boys always seem to hold onto the comforting gestures of their mothers and want them repeated even when they are grown).  It is one of the most beautiful moments I experience as a mother--No, not just as a mother, as a person--To have my child fall asleep in my arms.  Stella looks like an angel when she is in slumber.  Her long, dark eyelashes resting lightly on her cheeks.  Her cupid bow lips parted slightly.  Her long hair splayed over her pillow.  She is all peacefulness and quiet…  The opposite of how she is when she is awake!  I have been teaching Stella her prayers at night.  And, like Mikey, she also likes me to tickle her back and arms with my fingernails.  She likes me to say the prayers over and over to her, while I tickle-rub her back, as she tries to allow her little brain to slow down, let wheels stop spinning—to calm herself.  She is so much like me.  I worry that she is so much like me.  

My babies, asleep in my arms
     But tonight, as I lay next to her, and wrapped my arms around her, I told her how she used to fall asleep in my arms when she was a baby. She said she felt safe and happy when she was in my arms.  And that is what will stop this madness. It has to.

I forget.  I sink into the well.  I have no one reminding me anymore.  I only have that whisper now, not a strong and sure voice of reason…  No one reminds me those babies put me back together.  I should be able to listen to that rational voice and not the screaming voices in my head when I feel so terrible... But, I  know I just can’t do this by myself.  Not yet.  I’m still two people.  I’m messed up.  I just need someone to pull me up, when I am hugging my knees, my face pressed hard against them, rocking in sadness, thinking I am too far gone…

I am Mine

The selfish, they're all standing in line
Faithing and hoping to buy themselves time
Me, I figure as each breath goes by
I only own my mind

North is to South what the clock is to time
There's east and there's west and there's everywhere life
I know I was born and I know that I'll die
In between is mine
I am mine

And the feeling it gets left behind
All the innocence lost at one time
Significance behind the eyes
There's no need to hide
We're safe tonight

The ocean is full 'cause everyone's crying
The full moon is looking for friends at high tide
The sorrow grows bigger when the sorrow's denied
I only know my mind
I am mine

And the feeling it gets left behind
All the innocence lost at one time
Significance between the eyes
There's no need to hide
We're safe tonight

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