All certainty is gone. For months, then years, I did not know what kind of day I would have, what kind of memories it would bring or how I would cope with that. The best days were those when I felt most myself and not living under the long shadow of sadness and grief and anger caused by my dad. The worst days - moments or days even - where when I was unable to separate myself from him, when I truly felt the fear that I too was cursed and I too would end up taking my own life. Even though I know that I would never want to inflict that hurt onto my loved ones, I felt I had been marked.
Other days I waited for the days to pass, in the hope that as they passed I would get further and further away from the fact.
Some days I felt totally mired in it all and so lost and unable to relate to my peers that I wondered if I would ever be "normal" again.
And then there were the occasional days, when the sun was shining and the leaves moving in the breeze and it didn't matter because I knew I was part of something bigger and that life carries us on like a salty tide, regardless. We have no choice in that.
1 comment:
i just want u to know you've helped me tremendously. and you're a brilliant writer.
i'm sorry that this is what you have to write about, but your words are lovely, evocative, and healing. to me at least.
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