I peaked out the balcony door this morning, let Tula out and although I couldn’t see without my glasses, the light rain glistened on the roof. The gray morning, diffused light turning green electric. I crawled back in bed. Pat still slept, the unwoven threads on his head reaching out to something. Where do we connect? Head, heart, thumb, hip – the invisible strand I’d like to pull and unravel just to see what’s there, where it starts, what color it is. He’s leaving for a few days on a northern journey. One man into the wilderness.
Driving downtown from the outskirts where I live, not one person had an umbrella. The rain fell harder, shirts blotchy and soaked. A woman on the sidewalk started hitting her purse against a man in a yellow coat. A panic rose in me, until they walked down the street like companions.
Last night, I had a dream that my father shot me with a shotgun through my neck and shoulder. I survived, but could never breathe the same again.
Where do I stand?
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2 responses to “Where do I stand?”
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Oh, Rachel, what horrible anxiety you’re experiencing. The stress of it must feel appalling. There’s little by way of comfort I can send you, though I wish there were. Call a friend, cry it out, be with someone for a while. As wonderful as our critters are for consolation, sometimes you need a change of scene or a place that feels safer than the one you’re inhabiting now. Is there such a place or person? I’ll be thinking of you, though it won’t do you a bit of good in real time, though I wish. . .xoxo
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It felt more quiet than anxious-ridden if that makes any sense? The dream, I’m not sure about the dream, but it was hard to breathe in the dream, I could feel that – a weighted breath. That was unnerving. But I think the important thing in the dream was that despite the scar or how an incident may have altered me, I am still strong. Thank you for sending love. I’ve actually been much better than I was a month ago – trying to get back to myself and I think this weekend will be good to do that or help anyway. It’s been a long time since I HAD to spend time with myself. Good and bad sometimes. I wonder if we don’t feel safe in ourselves if we can feel safe anywhere, but I feel safe – I’ve been holding myself close. Thoughts do wonders – more than you know. xoxo
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