Steely
Active Member
I woke up this morning, with this very, very odd feeling. It must have been part of a dream I had, or something. But I was sorta weepy, and in my mind I had this cloak on that only had a few beautiful pieces of embroider left on it. The rest of the cloak was bare. I took Tesla on a walk, and the image of the cloak stayed in my mind. The image made me feel so empty and lost inside, where are the rest of my beautiful embroidered pieces for my cloak?
As my reality went sifting through my soul, I realized that despite moving to an amazing place in a few weeks, I am still suffering from a gaping wound in my being.
When I think of my life, it seems to start back when H died. Then Matt went to Residential Treatment Center (RTC) for 2 years, and 6 months later I moved to AZ for this great job. I fell in love with the desert, and my boss was amazing. I was so happy for that 6 months. Then my boss left, and my life crumbled once again. I had a new horrible boss who harassed me daily, I got mono, and then whopping cough, and Matt got kicked out his Residential Treatment Center (RTC). Slowly, like the cacti, I became thorny, dry, and started losing hope. HOPE - as in the entire entity - I was losing.
Then my dad was diagnosis was brain cancer, and Matt had a breakdown and moved to AZ with me. Two months after that, out of the blue, I was fired for no cause. My file was clean. But my boss hated me - and AZ is an at will state.
Since then I took upon myself the role of helping my mom. I was present for the last months of my dad's death. I watched as they zipped up the body bag, and placed a flag on him. So many feelings, so many. Then I flew to Dallas for the memorial. I had written him a poem for the memorial that I managed to read without crying;
I pen this sitting in my red rock desert, as the wind blows, and the rain gently falls,
Dad your spirit is within every gust, every drop, and in every raven's call.
Just as you loved me, your love for nature ran equally as deep,
The two are now locked as one inside my soul, forever mine to keep.
Side by side with heavy packs, you and I walked hundreds of miles.
Trudging through streams, mountains, and through many stormy trials.
You were my stalwart, my compass, my mentor, my strength,
Never hesitating to stop and teach me the details of the fuana, regardless of the trail's length.
Heidi and I would often follow our fearless pack leader, hand in hand,
As we learned the true meaning of fortitude, tenacity, and how to take a stand.
Later in life. as my paths were paved with hardships not flowers,
I realized your perseverance had created a reservoir within me of tremendous power.
The power to go the distance, to never give up, to never give in, to never waiver,
A power that comes from enduring extreme elements that one can later savor.
And you, my father, even off the trail, continued to be my pack leader, my mentor, my guide,
Pointing out the fault line in my life plans, or giving me shade under which I could hide.
Even under pressing circumstances, tragedies, and places where light and hope were far,
You continued to be my source of direction, my rock, my North Star.
Forever all the trails I hike, all the rivers I forge, all the mountains I see,
You will be soaring above reminding me of your love for me.
I really miss my North star. That strength he had, even if it was crusty, it was present, my rock. His love was a constant.
From my dad's death and forward everything has been chaotic, and I think I have lost my sense of being. I flew to Dallas 2 more times to help my mom pack the family house of 40 years and sell it. About 1/3 of the house we put in storage in Portland, which we then moved to my house in WA, and the other 1/4 we put in my moms condo in Portland.
I decided after my Dad died that I should move NW to be closer to all of my family. So now, I am packing my house, and being the cattle prod that I wish Matt didn't need, to pack his house. (GEEZ). I am also in the middle of this huge investigation that I started when I got fired. A week ago they called and asked me to do -oh- about a weeks worth of homework. It is SO much.
As I go through and write down everything they want for this investigation, it occurs to me that I absolutely gave that company every single thing I had left to give a company. Everything. I now feel completely depleted. I gave so much to this company, and then to get fired! I believe I have nothing else left, ever, to give to an organization again. But what is worse is that I don't even feel like writing my book anymore. I do not even have the passion to finish the book that I have been working on for years. Instead just feel hollowed out, and alone.
I came out to this desert, to make my own life. To be happy, finally, to claim this life as my own. And it didn't happen. I want to go to Washington with that same spirit of hope and tenacity, and I don't feel it. I want to hope, and dream - but it is just not there. I just still feel too sad about my dad, and losing my job, and I feel so exhausted from already moving my mom twice, that I have no energy or gumption to move one more thing.
And then of course, as if a difficult child would make anything easier
His Dr gave him Percosat for his back problems - and he is a monster on them. I have to sell the trailer he is in, in order to move - and I have discovered all sorts of crazy little projects he has done in the house that require repair. I mean, really???? Why can't he just live in a house, normally, clean, and take care of it, etc. We are not moving until he gets the house sell-able which means, oh I don't know - hell?
I just feel so odd and I wish I knew what to do or say. I miss my dad and want to talk to my mom about it, but she has done this thing she does where she compresses her feelings into, um, steel? And she has no feelings. It makes it that much weirder to deal with death, when I am an open book, and she is a trash compactor.
I know I have so much to be thankful for, and I hope I do not come across as complaining. I just don't want to feel empty anymore. I want to feel hope. I want to wake up thankful for a new day. I want a job where someone can see my talents, not step on them like they are wilting flowers. I want the drama in my life to stop. And I want friends, and a boyfriend - a real life. But I cannot actually visualize any of those things happening - because the HOPE is gone. I feel like I have lost my best friend, this thing called hope. It was all I have ever had to inspire me, and keep me going forward. And now, I am just a robot, doing what I need to do to survive.
I know this post is the longest, possibly ever - sorry. Thank you for listening.
As my reality went sifting through my soul, I realized that despite moving to an amazing place in a few weeks, I am still suffering from a gaping wound in my being.
When I think of my life, it seems to start back when H died. Then Matt went to Residential Treatment Center (RTC) for 2 years, and 6 months later I moved to AZ for this great job. I fell in love with the desert, and my boss was amazing. I was so happy for that 6 months. Then my boss left, and my life crumbled once again. I had a new horrible boss who harassed me daily, I got mono, and then whopping cough, and Matt got kicked out his Residential Treatment Center (RTC). Slowly, like the cacti, I became thorny, dry, and started losing hope. HOPE - as in the entire entity - I was losing.
Then my dad was diagnosis was brain cancer, and Matt had a breakdown and moved to AZ with me. Two months after that, out of the blue, I was fired for no cause. My file was clean. But my boss hated me - and AZ is an at will state.
Since then I took upon myself the role of helping my mom. I was present for the last months of my dad's death. I watched as they zipped up the body bag, and placed a flag on him. So many feelings, so many. Then I flew to Dallas for the memorial. I had written him a poem for the memorial that I managed to read without crying;
I pen this sitting in my red rock desert, as the wind blows, and the rain gently falls,
Dad your spirit is within every gust, every drop, and in every raven's call.
Just as you loved me, your love for nature ran equally as deep,
The two are now locked as one inside my soul, forever mine to keep.
Side by side with heavy packs, you and I walked hundreds of miles.
Trudging through streams, mountains, and through many stormy trials.
You were my stalwart, my compass, my mentor, my strength,
Never hesitating to stop and teach me the details of the fuana, regardless of the trail's length.
Heidi and I would often follow our fearless pack leader, hand in hand,
As we learned the true meaning of fortitude, tenacity, and how to take a stand.
Later in life. as my paths were paved with hardships not flowers,
I realized your perseverance had created a reservoir within me of tremendous power.
The power to go the distance, to never give up, to never give in, to never waiver,
A power that comes from enduring extreme elements that one can later savor.
And you, my father, even off the trail, continued to be my pack leader, my mentor, my guide,
Pointing out the fault line in my life plans, or giving me shade under which I could hide.
Even under pressing circumstances, tragedies, and places where light and hope were far,
You continued to be my source of direction, my rock, my North Star.
Forever all the trails I hike, all the rivers I forge, all the mountains I see,
You will be soaring above reminding me of your love for me.
I really miss my North star. That strength he had, even if it was crusty, it was present, my rock. His love was a constant.
From my dad's death and forward everything has been chaotic, and I think I have lost my sense of being. I flew to Dallas 2 more times to help my mom pack the family house of 40 years and sell it. About 1/3 of the house we put in storage in Portland, which we then moved to my house in WA, and the other 1/4 we put in my moms condo in Portland.
I decided after my Dad died that I should move NW to be closer to all of my family. So now, I am packing my house, and being the cattle prod that I wish Matt didn't need, to pack his house. (GEEZ). I am also in the middle of this huge investigation that I started when I got fired. A week ago they called and asked me to do -oh- about a weeks worth of homework. It is SO much.
As I go through and write down everything they want for this investigation, it occurs to me that I absolutely gave that company every single thing I had left to give a company. Everything. I now feel completely depleted. I gave so much to this company, and then to get fired! I believe I have nothing else left, ever, to give to an organization again. But what is worse is that I don't even feel like writing my book anymore. I do not even have the passion to finish the book that I have been working on for years. Instead just feel hollowed out, and alone.
I came out to this desert, to make my own life. To be happy, finally, to claim this life as my own. And it didn't happen. I want to go to Washington with that same spirit of hope and tenacity, and I don't feel it. I want to hope, and dream - but it is just not there. I just still feel too sad about my dad, and losing my job, and I feel so exhausted from already moving my mom twice, that I have no energy or gumption to move one more thing.
And then of course, as if a difficult child would make anything easier
His Dr gave him Percosat for his back problems - and he is a monster on them. I have to sell the trailer he is in, in order to move - and I have discovered all sorts of crazy little projects he has done in the house that require repair. I mean, really???? Why can't he just live in a house, normally, clean, and take care of it, etc. We are not moving until he gets the house sell-able which means, oh I don't know - hell?I just feel so odd and I wish I knew what to do or say. I miss my dad and want to talk to my mom about it, but she has done this thing she does where she compresses her feelings into, um, steel? And she has no feelings. It makes it that much weirder to deal with death, when I am an open book, and she is a trash compactor.
I know I have so much to be thankful for, and I hope I do not come across as complaining. I just don't want to feel empty anymore. I want to feel hope. I want to wake up thankful for a new day. I want a job where someone can see my talents, not step on them like they are wilting flowers. I want the drama in my life to stop. And I want friends, and a boyfriend - a real life. But I cannot actually visualize any of those things happening - because the HOPE is gone. I feel like I have lost my best friend, this thing called hope. It was all I have ever had to inspire me, and keep me going forward. And now, I am just a robot, doing what I need to do to survive.
I know this post is the longest, possibly ever - sorry. Thank you for listening.
and tell the rest of those thoughts to let you be in peace. 
