Waiting… The Stale Breath of a New Beginning.

Hallo again… how long has it been? Ages. It really feels like Ages. At least an Age since I last felt free of burden. At least two since my decisions were dependent only of me.


There’s been a cold war here in my world. I’m not even sure if it’s over or if I’m in the aftermath, it’s been ongoing for so long now. Stand-off entanglement with an ex, surrendering of my much invested career, poverty like I’ve never known, carrying the burden of secrets just to save hurting other people, being ripped-off by so-called ‘friends’ and being betrayed by the best ones, pffffffff friends… fighting one battle after another – where winning doesn’t make any sudden or immediate difference, like wtf is the point of any of it? Feeling shat on from a height by all in sundry and as a result feeling now incapable of making the right decisions which in itself is torturous given that any given day usually requires me to make at least one…


I’ve lost count of the Ages it’s been since I’ve felt like a woman… sadder still that I know she is in here, but I can’t be arsed looking for her. Were I to seek and find her, I know it would help me to regain my feminine empowerment. That which separates me from them. My inner strength, my platinum ability to endure. My stamina. Refusal to lay down under the burden and give up. That which is in part, what defines me. I would feel more ‘whole’ – more ‘complete’, one true feminine and with it, the empowerment to be a confident and strong woman. Yes I am independent, strong and capable etc, but without confidence this now all but renders my strength useless of late, as my batteries drain into oblivion…


In the grand scheme of things, I briefly encountered wealth and worry-free living on leaving an existence of survival despite extreme poverty, with my world falling around my shoulders, as if by Meteor Strike. I’ve stood amidst the wreckage of my successes and realised my failures. In my youth I tasted reality and whilst discovering my options, lived with my choices and learned from my mistakes. Knowing my alternatives first hand, I made a conscious decision to turn my back on badness and hate and I cherish the freedom that continues to bring to both me and my conscience now. But I don’t see reward for it. At least not on the scale one might fairly expect. I don’t believe in wishing badness or bringing harm about to others, but its hard to reason with frustration and anger. I take steps to expel it or to defer it, but I can’t reason with it.
With time my understanding of justice is completely skewed, as the enactment of law in the search for justice does not equate. The world is in chaos. Ireland feels like the Titanic, nose-diving at a terrifying speed now. We’re not far from third world for some and no-one is doing anything about it. Nationalism shows no results other than the CROOKS [government & banks etc] are winning because the WEAK [hard-done-by – my fellow nationals] haven’t got a testicle between them, much less balls enough to take an actual stand against the wrong-doings of their country. I would tie myself to the railings if I knew how to deal with bodily functions whilst protesting, whilst others won’t get out of their chairs to show solidarity because it might rain. How embarrassing. Yet still we will hear them loudly recant the terrible injustices that they are now experiencing in their lives and how something needs to be done about it, but – what they really mean – is that somebody needs to do something about it – for THEM! Frustrating beyond belief. I’ve stood outside buildings, on cold bridges, I’ve written emails, I’ve written to the papers, the departments, the department heads, I’ve even written to the President of Ireland asking for answers, without courtesy of a response. I’ll do it, but I’ve reached the point now where I won’t continue to do it for a nation of selfish people who won’t help themselves.


But its this air that unnerves me. I don’t like it. It’s heavy. Grimy. Laden with bitterness and anger now. A rumbling in some of us, coming to boiling point, as people try to keep their heads above water. An eventual erruption you might think eminent, but when? And it would surely clear the air at the very least. Relieve the tension, ease the worry, help the suffering? I resent that in recent years, I have come to know hatred on a more personal level aswell as on a global level and it is hard not to feel resentment for those who compromise our rights to a life. Our rights to security and peace of mind = happiness. What are we supposed to feel for those who do us wrong? Those who stand against us and obstruct our journey? We should be able to look ahead and feel unhindered by others, but the reality is a minefield of difficulties, a mutiny, manned by all walks of life, people regardless.


I take deep breaths and count to ten… and to twenty…. and to ninety, but they still stand in my way and I wonder how much more tens can I count. This life is like a panic station but still I go on. I fall but I get up again. That’s not to say I don’t call down empty corridors in my head time and time again, trying to escape that which haunts me and that of which ‘we do not speak about’. My own life goes on too… I scale the walls for switches to spark light into the darkness which shrouds me from future happiness and fulfillment. I’ve crossed streets half-naked, at different times, awake and asleep, looking for something sooo hard to find and never knew I needed so much, until I lost it… my sanity.


I’ve apprenticed to and clung to memories of, people who only serve to ridicule me now. Who don’t see me. I feel myself waste time as I fumble through a labyrinth of ideals and notions on my out of control roller-coaster ride, not knowing where it will end or if I will fall, again. Me who hates roller-coasters. Exhausted and forever trying to make things happen. Scared almost that my ability to focus on the positives has seriously diminished. I am always mindful of how worse things could be, but sometimes its just soooo hard. And fear is a huge pressure.

I’m tired of ‘face-offs’ with the ones I have loved, whom I try to still love and who should love me unconditionally, but don’t. Tired of trying to live up to twisted expectations in a reality that is unwavering in its plight to hinder my progress. These are people who are supposed to be helping to hold me up. Who are supposed to be morally supporting me, if for no other reason than through recognition of the roads I’ve already travelled that have brought me here not to mention the years we shared together, when I could not be faulted.  With a few exemptions of a few who are like rocks to me, I mostly feel alone facing my battles.  Brick-walls, battles, same thing.
 

What is worse is I knowww – I remember what a good life is. I have been outside this box, I knowwww there is life on the other side and I knowww what it is like. With every fibre of my being I miss it. I recount my foreign ventures on a daily – often hourly basis. I revisit good times so that I am reminded that I can go there again one day, when everything is in place. It allows me to keep my sanity. Room in my soul to create granted to me by sanity. Sanity, the true love of my life. That which to others can mean 2.4 children, a mortgage and a spouse, that which to me means only one thing, freedom to be me. Me who likes to create, to invent, to celebrate, to help, to love, to laugh, to frolic {a bit of a pansy word I know, but descriptive in terms of my Spirit} and to be spirited. Allowed to feel the youth inside me that never went away. My single reward for the torment. My encapsulation in a time of my life where youth never left. My Narnia. My Realm. Here is my innocence, unable to move forward at its own pace, forced to learn through horrible realisations found at the dawn of another encounter with evil that lies within others. My inner self still dreams of what she’ll be when she grows up, I suppose that equates with the adult me planning my life when this phase of it is over.


Procrastination almost, but not quite. I would willingly do it now, but I actually can’t until other things are sorted. I’m waiting. Efforts would be wasted and I have learned through my own experience, that its effect on me is a full drain on my abilities to go on without going underground, pulling back from the world. Hiding in my room – huh, my few feet of space that albeit small, is mostly undisturbed. I can engage in mindless activities that will keep the waiting less torturous. Retreating from friendships without the ability to be concerned with how they will perceive it. I don’t always call to explain that I’ll be incommunicado for a while, just while I get myself together and find the motivation to get back up ‘on the horse that just bucked me off’. Some of them get it. They’ll assure me there’s no need – and I know there isn’t – they wouldn’t think less of me, I know that, but I would, for meee. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to hear the words coming out of my mouth. I don’t want to face the realisation that I will have to face whilst discussing it with anyone, not even myself. To me it’s weight is ENORMOUS and stagnant and old, there is no movement. All the world is moving, yet there is no movement for me. Time warp. Groundhog Day. Therefore, what I am saying is repetitive and is drilling a message to my brain that I don’t want my brain to hear. I’m trying to trick my brain into thinking that everything will be ok, so I try to keep it averted from the reality of what is really going on as much as I can.

 

My instinct is to think of who I could have beside me when that time comes. Who will come to the bank with me while I face my bank balance? Who will stand with me while I open the post? Feeling the absence of having someone to hold my hand and knowing the importance of it. But I’d rather go through it alone than have ‘my’ people associate me with negativity in any way, or have them ever dread my phone-call for fear they’d have to listen to the ‘same shit – different day’ scenarios on offer. Nope, I really don’t want that. I’ll absorb my thoughts with comedy and knowledge, with humorous antics that keep the girl I am inside distracted from the truth that I have in every other way moved on and become a warrior, her protector and that there are battles to fight and it is my job to do. She is trapped inside with a multitude of dreams to realise, not knowing they will never amount to anything as I can no longer be that innocent out here in the real world, wherein my armor of knowledge and experience protects all that she stands for… and continues her quest for peace of mind.

SOoo I guess this is me, saying I’m back, it’s too long-winded to go into everything right now, but I’m still here, despite it all, still trudging along and I’ll get there eventually. Two years over schedule but I sense my new beginning is not so far away now, the fresh scents of Hope and Excitement are drifting through the atmosphere at a powerful pace and there is light at the end of my tunnel.

If I’m writing at all, then you can be assured that sanity is here, and if I’m not, then I’m out looking for it. Either way, I’m trying desperately to make things happen and a kind word from a friend is often the greatest cushion…

Love & Light

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4 thoughts on “Waiting… The Stale Breath of a New Beginning.

  1. Thanks Flute Player!! It’s amazing how people can see things into what others create that the ‘artist’ or in this case ‘author’ could never see themselves. I must admit, majestic was the furthest description from my mind as I wrote this, I was more explaining my somewhat dour withdrawal from ‘public life’ here, and my biggest fear was that my truths were too melancholy – angry even, to gain anyone’s interest. But, you have really used a word that strikes a chord within in me that I wasn’t expecting today and with that I’ll go off feeling a far happier bunny, just to have been heard and appreciated! Thanks so much for taking the time – and making my day. Love and light to you fellow blogger, Amanda :o)

  2. “If I’m writing at all, then you can be assured that sanity is here” … my favorite line. Strange how life moves and twists. But we manage to figure it out and are always the better for having persevered with a loving heart. Blessings,

    • Hi Lisa and thanks for stopping by!! As I read your comment, I was ‘chuffed’ that this particular line had struck a chord with you. It’s a question I always ask my kids after we’ve watched a movie – ‘what was your favourite bit’? I love it when anyone then, such as yourself, volunteers an answer to that question despite not having been asked it. But maybe more importantly, I know that despite encryption, I am ‘heard’. And your words, ‘persevered with a loving heart’ ? – simply magic! Love & Light :o)

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