So I’m feeling rather bitchy today. I had already snapped at a friend, who has done nothing but support me, by 8 AM. I don’t understand why, but it seems I am ‘needing’ a cigarette more this week than last. I am short of patience and quick to anger at the moment. I’ve already spent too much time on Facebook, scrolling through the newsfeed crying over the sad videos of sad animals or crying at the heartrending videos of soldiers being reunited with their loved ones after long deployments. This emotional crap has to go..
I found an entire pack of cigarettes last night in a hand bag I hadn’t opened since September. THAT WAS ROUGH! I gave to my daughter to get rid of, I didn’t even trust myself to put it in the trash- because then I would know it was there, beckoning me. Like the song of the siren, calling me to my eventual death….
Of course it has been a rather emotional week, especially dealing with my Husband’s suicide, again,, and I’m really not feeling the holiday cheer. My desperate attempts at doing crafts with the kids, grand kids, and friend’s kids to try and force myself to enjoy the holidays and forget about depression and cigarettes isn’t quite dealing with the actual issues of my depression. All it’s doing is putting off the inevitable cloud of misery that crashes down when I am alone. My heart is broken by my own pain, the pain of my children, and the pain of others experiencing loss, anxiety, and depression during the holidays. I am an empath, I carry my own pain and unfortunately assume the pain of others. I don’t think the Chantix is helping my depression, it’s definitely helping me not smoke but I’m pretty sure it’s exacerbating my emotional state.
On an up note I really did enjoy the time with the kids while it lasted. I felt like my old self which was a blessing I haven’t felt in a long time. So I do know that there is light at the end of the tunnel for me! The kids were ecstatic to be making gifts for their families, and for once not worrying about the tablets or the TV! Someday they will remember the time I spent and it will mean something. I remember all the things my grandparents did with me, and all the joy and laughter we shared. I was very fortunate to have my grandparents and my aunt and uncle so involved in my life. There were so many sleepovers and craft days, days of backyard fun, and playing on the beach, BBQ parties and board games or card games, chasing lightning bugs on a summer’s eve will always be in my heart.
I really wish I could go to the ocean, that ALWAYS fixes my emotional state.
Like life itself, the ocean holds a myriad of characteristics both dark and light, even so, as with people, occasionally the tempest consumes. Its waters raging, its surf pounding, with the crushing blows resounding over the face of the beach. As if the ocean itself grows weary, letting its anger be known. Occasionally swirls of brown/green water roil in fury as lightening slashes, exposing the face of the water twisted and raw, and high jagged peaks of wrath mar its formerly friendly surface. No longer bathed in light and delicate froth the ocean roars. The sheer power and magnitude of the ocean is exhibited for all to see, reminding us that we are not always in control. Nature itself knows no bounds and cannot be harnessed or broken.I could sometimes see a dark, barely moving depth giving the appearance of a foreboding glass surface, hiding the unknown in its depths: unspeakable horrors, darkness and death, so like the hearts of some men, full of deceit and ill will hidden beneath a smooth surface. There are treacherous currents waiting to rob one of both life and hope: Hope, the most important of all emotions, without hope, what is left?
The next moment the ocean is softly caressing the skin with its cool waters, washing away the clutch of the world and its weight, granting peace, It envelopes one’s self in a cocoon of separation from the day’s trouble and toil, allowing one’s self to be lost in the green/blue depths, floating carefree even if just for the moment, embracing one’s place in the world. All of these many aspects bring peace to me, my own soul a mirror of the ocean itself, its many moods exposed in the ocean’s surface. Though I am but tiny and insignificant compared to the depth and breadth of the ocean, my faith is renewed there, on that beach by the sea, my purpose redefined yet again.
Putting my feelings into words make them all the more true; some things are better left unspoken, as if speaking them give them life. The ocean required no words of me. It was a constant in a tilting world, but now I could see both the darkness and the light. I was trying hopelessly to cling to a childhood lost, a remnant of memory, a distant feeling of a time without division and discord. How I long for the shore of my youth! Yet still, the ocean is a refuge; somewhere in there is my old friend.
It is beautiful with the scent of salty air, the shifting breezes, the cry of gulls overhead, the sea grasses whispering in the background, while the surf crashes and roars as it continues its endless ebb and flow.
Now the Bitch in me is quiet, reflection on the past has soothed her for the moment. But I know this battle is not over. I will fight, I will continue to press on. I will not give up, and I will not give in. This is my life, and I am claiming it!