Nothing Is Constant But Change

I want to write something, but the words don’t come.  I want to express my need to escape, but I don’t even know where it is I really want to go.  I just want to stop hurting and not feel so all alone.  Not long ago I knew exactly what I wanted and where I wanted to be.  That’s all changed now.  I’ve considered moving back to Maine…home! They say there’s no place like home, but is that true?  Would  finally going home give me the comfort I so desperately seek?  Would I feel the sense of belonging that I’ve never felt about Pensacola? Would Maine be the arms to surround me, to protect me and be the shoulder to cry upon?  That voice in the back of my head keeps saying "run away…just leave!".  I’m afraid of how I feel right now.  The tears come just when I think there are no more to cry.  They fall silently and I’m alone. 

The Litter Box

I’ve been a little overwhelmed by the number of people emailing me about the disappearance of "The Litter Box".  I guess I was wrapped up in writing my story and wasn’t aware so many people were actually reading it.  Many people I got emails from had never left a comment on The Litter Box, so naturally I assumed only a few were actually following along as I wrote it.   Maybe those who didn’t comment felt uncomfortable due to the personal nature of my story and didn’t really know what to write. Regardless, I wanted to thank everyone for all the inquiries I’ve received! 

 

The Litter Box still exists and will be open to the public again soon.  This probably makes no sense, but I needed some time alone with "my story" to reflect on it before giving it back to  public domain again.  As many of you know, I was writing it as therapy and the last chapter was rather condensed compared to the rest of the story.  I suppose that’s due to the amount of pain involved in the last part of the story.  I want to write more and feel I need to write more, but the words just won’t come right now.  I can’t even read the last chapter without getting my keyboard wet, so you can imagine what writing it felt like.  So for all the inquiring minds who want to know, as I’m up to it, the last chapter will more than likely be turned into a few chapters.  

Once again, thanks for reading The Litter Box and also Abnormally Normal People!

 

© 2005 Abnormally Normal People. All rights reserved. 

The Metamorphosis Is Complete

Last night I fell asleep sobbing.  The tears were not for myself, but for someone else.  The thought of  how truly cruel emotional pain is on a person and the metamorphosis people go through as a result, made me sad to the point of tears.  Knowing that I cannot save the person nor even offer any them a buoy of any kind is hard to accept.  It’s tragic to see the transformation that has taken a vibrant person from being open and honest into being a cynical, bitter person ready to strike out and hurt anyone within their reach.  I know the striking out is designed to push people away… I’ve been there myself a few times. I also know that making others pay for the pain one person has caused is a two-sided sword.  It cuts swiftly and deeply.  It hurts people enough to drive them away and then it comes back to cut the sword holder too.  When the realization hits that they have hurt and driven people away that love and care for them… innocent people who only have  been supportive, shame and self-hatred sets in. The punishment then becomes ours!  I’ve found we are slower to forgive ourselves for mistakes than we are to forgive others.  Emotional suicide is a slow, painful, lonely death. 

I awoke this morning with a strange hollow feeling.  I awoke alone.  It’s the same place I have been for almost 8 years.  I understood that person’s pain for which I greived the night before.  I saw it as my own and knew it was time for me to rejoin the living.  Do I fling open my frontdoor and yell, "Hello world, I’m back!" or do I subtly reappear among the living as to cause the least amount of shock? Perhaps I’ll just go out and explore! I jokingly kept telling people I would be back when I got my second wind… I think I’m ready to go the distance at my normal cruising speed…full speed ahead! 

Today is the first day of the rest of my life!!!

 

© 2005 Abnormally Normal People. All rights reserved.

On A Personal Note

I wanted to make those people in the "clique" and also those resentful anonymous people aware that I don’t know how much longer I can consistently type entries. I know for some this is very good news.  No, I’m not running out of material! In fact, I haven’t even dipped into the "list" I made of topics when I first came on here that I was going to write about.  I have that list saved somewhere on my hard drive waiting for a rainy day.  The problem is that I’m losing strength and use of my right arm and hand and my left arm isn’t much better. Typing is getting difficult for me to do. I’m sure one of my children would type for me if I asked, but you know how sometimes things like that are a matter of pride. Asking for help isn’t always an easy thing to do especially when it’s someone who has always been Wonder Woman who now needs the help. I’ll do the best I can for as long as I can and then I’ll work something else out.

© 2005 Abnormally Normal People. All rights reserved.

To Whom It May Concern

I’ve declared today as a day of rest and contemplation for myself.   I have a few things I need to focus on figuring out that require my thought and attention. Until I return, please feel free to mull thru the old entries sitting gathering dust and mold or just drop your suggestions in the suggestion box by the door before leaving.  Please keep any suggestions separate from donations which are to be left at the back of the building in the alley.  Thank you for visiting ANP… now please drive through! 

© 2005 Abnormally Normal People. All rights reserved.