My Story

My Story:

After the illness and death of our only daughter, my husband and I decided to rent a boat and go sailing in the gulf of Mexico for a month. This is where, on New Year's Day 2005, we were caught in a storm, shipwrecked and my husband drowned. I have been on this island, which seems to be caught in some kind of portal or other dimension, ever since, free to explore philosophical and spiritual thoughts, yet physically unable to leave.

Other characters seem to be able to come and go as they please however, as I have met a few of them since being here. They visit me every once in awhile. Aquaman and Gypsy Queen were the first to appear. Gollum showed up after, then came El Alejandro and Stick-Paul, into whose dimension I was able to go a few hours before being pulled back to my island. More recently, Mr. Tumnus has been around.

Other than rare visits from these characters, I have the constant chattering of monkeys and sqawking of parrots to fill my days.

Every once in awhile, when the wind is just right, and I am able to power up the make-shift generator I made (I am handy aren't I?), charge my satelite phone, which has internet access (even out here), I am able to post a little something on my current life as a shipwrecked woman. Don't bother trying to rescue me just yet. I doubt you'd find me anyway. This seems to be one of those Bermuda Triangle things. I'm not sure I'm even in the same dimension anymore. But hey, the satelite phone still works, how cool is that?


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Everybody's broken

Bon Jovi says it best with this song:

Welcome to the party 
Come on in and disappear 
You're feeling like a stranger 
But all your friends are here 
Little lines and cracks 
Around your eyes and mouth 
Something's trying to get in 
Something's trying to get out 

There are days when I think I am broken beyond repair, dysfunctional inside.  I am incapable of appreciating good things.  I am incapable of communication when it matters.  I hide behind a thick skin but inside, I bleed.  I think I may never learn to communicate properly.  I've been hiding behind thick skin for a long time.  It's funny how sometimes, it isn't the big things that hurt you most, but the accumulation of little things.  I think I am better off alone on my island.

I have allowed the words and inaction of one person to poison my life, when the words and actions of all the others should speak louder.  Why should words spoken so long ago by one person still have such an effect today?  Why should I even care, when these words came from the mouth of someone
hurt by life and more dysfunctional than I am?

It is time to get over it.  I am not the sum of words said to me, and my happiness does not rely on the actions of others.  I will make my own happiness.


Written in the sand by at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)