Thursday, April 30, 2009

UnknownTerritory

I'm wandering about in a place I've never been. Nothing seems quite right, there is little or no comfort, and the energy to move along to a different place is elusive, sometimes I am so tired, I just sit down and sleep right there, with no regard for things which "need" to be done, or other places I "should" be. Sleep, even, is filled with struggle dreams. Out of nowhere, for happy or sad reasons, tears well up, start to flow, then stop, leaving me pensive, sad, frustrated, thwarted. Somehow, I manage to get out of "the place" and go to work, but even there seems like a different version of the maze, voices of friendship seem to come from within a tunnel. I make attempts to walk a different path, go toward brightness, love and creativity, but quickly the darkness fills in the speck of light and all direction and intention is lost. Conversations are rote, hollow or disjointed.

Twilight finds me walking side streets and trying to inhale some clarity.....returning home there is no memory of what I have seen or felt and it seems it was a dream, except walking shoes are on my feet and I am exhausted in a way I have never known, my limbs like dead weight after little more than a mile.

The office was being painted yesterday afternoon, so I came home an hour early.... sat in a chair with jacket on and went to sleep for an hour.

Painful numbness......cheeks heavy, wishing I could talk to Dad, I get ready for another day in the maze.

2 comments:

Happy Days said...

You can talk to Dad. You just have a conversation just as if he were there. After 4 years, I talk to my daddy all the time. Sometimes I know he is there. It all takes time. I thought I would never be the same and it wasn't until the second Christmas after he was gone that I didn't cry at the dinner table. I keep my dad's picture and a picture of Bob's parents by our dinning room table at all times. When ever we have a family dinner I light the candle that sits in front of them. For me, it means we are all together. That is comforting. It comforts me to talk to him and I do it on a regular basis. So, start talking and you might be surprised at how comforting it really is...debbie

One Woman's Journey said...

What you write is a part of me.
Not regarding the loss of a father.
But the loss of a lot in life and still seeking a path.