OCTOBER 8, 2018

As an only child, books were my life. I had no one to blame for accidents, no one to lean on at all times, no one as an immediate source of strength, comfort, & reasoning. I am finding that because of this, I have troubles communicating with my husband. While I have gained knowledge from my years of turning to books, it has hindered the ability for my brain & mouth to form coherent sentences to him that can get my thoughts across clearly without sounding like a nutjob.

Thoughts; millions of them, rising at the most inopportune times, making it impossible for me to tell him my feelings.

This "journal" will give me time & freedom. Time to articulate my thoughts/feelings & freedom in how I choose to express those thoughts/feelings. Those thoughts/feelings that I want to say to my husband, I will say here; future reference & self-healing therapy.

Tonight, I was writing my "impact letter" & a song came on my Pandora. It was the summary I needed today of my thoughts/feelings.

Dear Husband,

Cast the calming apple

Up and over satellites

To draw out the timid wild one

To convince you it's alright

And I listen for the whisper

Of your sweet insanity

while I formulate denials

of your effect on me

You're a stranger

So what do I care?

You vanish today

Not the first time I hear

All the lies

What am I to do with all this silence?

Shy away, shy away phantom

Run away, terrified child

Won't you move away, you fuckin' tornado

I'm better off without you

Tearing my will down

Recent Posts

See All

Ok, so I don't *hate* everything, myself included. However, there is this constant battle within to shake others until they understand what kindness, loyalty, compassion means versus turning the other

I am broken. It seems hell is full of fun time circus mirrors and this is probably why they call it hell. These mirrors distort things, make me think I am climbing out but in reality, I am just walkin