Tag: sadness

Grateful

“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”

~ Oscar Wilde

Sometimes the rough points in life seem endless. There is no light at the end of the tunnel and bad things are just going to continue to occur without pause. That is life and it goes on, so they say. 

2022 has been one big pile of unimaginable tragedy, pain, illness, and trauma, not just for my husband and I, but for folks within our tight knit little “framily”. My heart has been at a complete loss for why all of these incidents and heartaches are taking place at the same time. Is it just our age? Have we reached a strange place where this is just, how things are for a bit? If so, I cannot say I am enjoying it in the slightest. Nope. 

“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”

~ Buddha

So here we are in February after a lot of pain and mourning, hard decisions and healing, feeling surprisingly ready for whatever the rest of 2022 is here to bring. Priorities, plans, and finances redirected to finally begin pursuing what we have been putting on the back burner for our own growth. Feeling immensely grateful for the grace, empathy, and support we have received in our little circle during the heavy when it could have just been an “I told you so!”. Sometimes it is the littlest things that have reminded both of us we are worthy of better.

I could not feel more thankful for this moment of feeling a strange, unimaginable sense of peace. 

For those feeling less than worthy, I implore you to start your new year now. Redefine and rearrange what amplifies in you “I AM WORTHY!”. Find yourself a few folks with integrity who will check you when you need it and lift you when you cannot lift yourself. Fill up those timelines and follows with focus on the positive, the uplifting, and the safe.

The power of taking control over your own space is one you will never want to give back. 

X’s O’s and Skittles

1

Head(space)

“unbeingdead isn’t beingalive”

e. e. cummings

Another draft from the beginning of December for my fellow winter, bluesy babes because vulnerability is all I got left. Hang in there folks, it’s war out there.

~

I hate the cold season.

In the warmer seasons, I already tend to feel fidgety and anxious when saying out loud ‘I am not well, at the moment.’ There are many reasons for this, of course, but none of the reasons help ease the discomfort. The cold just makes it worse.

It’s come back in spades over the most recent weeks, whether it’s a sound or a phrase, the instance of the holiday season, or the ever timeless triggering social media post. A collection of tiny things haphazardly stacking themselves on top of each other.

I have not been able to write much lately. Dealing with medical issues while in a phase where I am just trying to get through the work day so that I can kiss my husband, potentially eat food, maybe touch yarn, and sleep (maybe even pet a cat or two). I rarely have the energy to take care of myself. Showering feels like hiking up the side of a mountain and back down again and then by the time I am clean, it’s time to go back to sleep. It’s the time of year where waking up causes anxiety and depression because you were hoping, just hoping, for things to look different that morning.

I’ve held on to this fleeting notion that I’ve experienced so much growth and change over 2021. Starting another book, sharing my story unashamed, speaking up, speaking out, and being honest (for the most part). Trying. Just trying. It’s amazing how one moment, one sound, one human, even, holds all the potential to rip it all away in a day. Suddenly the growth is just taking ten steps back to square one. The thought, feeling, floods of worry have hit the front lawn. You are nothing again and everything is doomed.

Well, of course this isn’t true, but the mind IS a terrible thing.

It cannot be put into words the gratefulness I feel when I step back (forced or otherwise) and remember those who hold space for me when I am unable. People who let me vent when I do not understand what is happening to me, and who remind me I am loved when myself and others have convinced me I am not. No strings attached. No gaslighting. No risks of abandonment or loss. Just being allowed to have feelings and reminded I am loved despite them and how illogical they may be. Sometimes feelings are just that. Feelings. But they still matter.

I have started to have a love/hate relationship with my occasional ability to wear my heart on my sleeve now. Just tell it like it is. Where I am in life, what I’m feeling; my hurts. Currently, I really hate it. My ‘standing naked in a crowd’ is set somewhere cold and my feet feel like ice.

No matter my particular feelings in this case, however, I know there are other humans out there feeling the exact same kind of empty and hopeless. Sometimes it’s just nice to know we are not alone in feeling alone.

This time of year is such a trigger for so many, it does not matter how much you physically or mentally attempt to prepare for it. It can feel heavy and endless. The days of roller coaster emotions will feel like eternity. I am so sorry if you are one of those many.

It’s going to be ok. We are going to be ok.

For those feeling the same: I see you, I understand you, and you are loved.

~

Cheerios,

XOXO

2

Reset

Where will I find you again
My friend?
On this road or at another
Bend?
Maybe, at the end 


‘We are all just getting by’
A statement present
When we 
                    Cry 
But the truth can’t 
Lie 
We’re all just trying to get
By


Leave me flowers near my
                  Stone,
Once I have left this world 
Alone,
After you have finally grown 
                   Older, 
May love find you once
You are bolder,
Blessings, graces when
You
Hold her, everything will 
Find it’s time, though I hope I
                  Find
You in mine, before the time
Resets for
It’s final wind


~ A. L. Stippich
0

melancholy

the sun is awake!

curtains pulled to a shallow
             sea
the waves begin
to stir
with a restless
ache

the sun has
stolen me,
how to make them
      understand
that i am fear's
permanent reside

words are not
thoughts
nor thoughts
words;
fragments 
                 and
                         slivers

the world is in motion,
in tune with the
  sea,
but my fists
remain firm
in the
sand

(even a hole can
play house 
to a 
     void)

melancholia
my lover, my infinite 

solitude

hold me fast in
your arms;
the iron gates
to my
eternal prison


~ A. L. Stippich
0

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