All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing
I can't deny it. There is a small hint of anger I find that comes at the small injustice of it all. But more than that is the large feeling of life that I was left with.
Sometimes I force myself to remember the whole experience. Always as a last resort or a final push. It helps propell me forward when I find myself halted in fear, at the thought of some inevitable life experience or another. Whether it's fear at a new job or a possible heartbreak, I stop and try to bring back the actual pain so I can prove to myself how durable I really am. The good news is, this is not an easy task. You'd be interested to know I'm sure, at how clouded and faded the memories are considering how fairly recent the storm was. Anyway, like I said, I force myself to remember the pain. The actual physical feeling of course, but also the shock that came and leveled me at how totally unaware and unprepared I was for the damage. Like every begining I've ever experienced I was not prepared. The first time my parents went away. The first time I skinned my knees. The first time I was betrayed by a friend. The first time I went to high school. The events might be different but the shock and awe period has always lingered. I imagine this is probably called "growing up" and if that's what I've been going through, then the term is incredibly underestimated. So I try to bring back all of it in one giant swoop. Because that's what your actions felt like. A hundred mile an hour wind that crushed me and made it difficult to walk standing up straight. I vaguely recall teetering around my house slightly bent over and holding onto banisters and doorknobs so I wouldn't be blown away completely. I suppose I think of it in the way that anyone who survived a terrible tradgedy remembers their ordeal. The only thing that matters is the end is that you're still alive. I remember all of this and my courage comes flooding back and I'm happy to be alive and willing to feel it all. I'm not afraid anymore to skin my knees or trust a friend. I have absolute confidence in the pattern of things so far.
Sometimes I force myself to remember the whole experience. Always as a last resort or a final push. It helps propell me forward when I find myself halted in fear, at the thought of some inevitable life experience or another. Whether it's fear at a new job or a possible heartbreak, I stop and try to bring back the actual pain so I can prove to myself how durable I really am. The good news is, this is not an easy task. You'd be interested to know I'm sure, at how clouded and faded the memories are considering how fairly recent the storm was. Anyway, like I said, I force myself to remember the pain. The actual physical feeling of course, but also the shock that came and leveled me at how totally unaware and unprepared I was for the damage. Like every begining I've ever experienced I was not prepared. The first time my parents went away. The first time I skinned my knees. The first time I was betrayed by a friend. The first time I went to high school. The events might be different but the shock and awe period has always lingered. I imagine this is probably called "growing up" and if that's what I've been going through, then the term is incredibly underestimated. So I try to bring back all of it in one giant swoop. Because that's what your actions felt like. A hundred mile an hour wind that crushed me and made it difficult to walk standing up straight. I vaguely recall teetering around my house slightly bent over and holding onto banisters and doorknobs so I wouldn't be blown away completely. I suppose I think of it in the way that anyone who survived a terrible tradgedy remembers their ordeal. The only thing that matters is the end is that you're still alive. I remember all of this and my courage comes flooding back and I'm happy to be alive and willing to feel it all. I'm not afraid anymore to skin my knees or trust a friend. I have absolute confidence in the pattern of things so far.