Your Biggest Wish
Your biggest wish for me (perhaps even still) has always been to turn off the frenetic energy of my brain. Just lay it aside, you intone. Put it to rest for a spell, for some semblance of quiet from the mad rushes inside me. (Not sure if you wanted me to take a break from myself, or you needed a break from me, or if it was a weary combination of both.)
Yet, to my ear, this is akin to laying down weapons in the midst of battle. Then, at this saddened juncture, I must admit to viewing life as an ongoing war. (Which may account for this deep-seated, long held fatigue.)
There are times when separation from relations is so acute, it's like I wasn't birthed but instead crawled forth, fully formed, from the head of Thunder Gods and can claim no parentage. Other times, I am a wonky/perfect patchwork of my mother and father, so exquisitely sewn together it seems as if I could never be any other rag doll than this.
He is gone, and today is one of those days where the mere thought of his smile, and the grandchildren he will never hold, leaves me slumped beneath covers well past the sound of alarms. She is here, and still fighting. Years ago, when the cancer first dug in its nails, she said, "I just don't want to die stupid." Her brain was her greatest and only asset. At least, this is what she truly believes.
She struggles with memory right now, a combination of insane, tidal waves of grieving, and the very chemicals that keep her illness at bay. It offends her. This vulnerability and dependency; the lessening of identity. Another woman who could no more turn off the constant barrage of thinking/planning/assessing than she could cease being herself.
And I do not want to be her.
I want to embody your wish. Be the space outside the lines and thoughts. A ready champion of the silence in between. Wielding my brain as a tool, a stepping stone, a gift, and able to lay it down upon a mantle when done. To finally be who I actually am, instead of (only) what I am able to do. To finally, maybe, not see my life as the conquerable or controllable. To lessen each compulsion to beat struggles into submission.You have yearned so readily for this, that I am now wanting this more than ever for myself.
I wish your wishes for me didn't mean so much.
Yet, to my ear, this is akin to laying down weapons in the midst of battle. Then, at this saddened juncture, I must admit to viewing life as an ongoing war. (Which may account for this deep-seated, long held fatigue.)
There are times when separation from relations is so acute, it's like I wasn't birthed but instead crawled forth, fully formed, from the head of Thunder Gods and can claim no parentage. Other times, I am a wonky/perfect patchwork of my mother and father, so exquisitely sewn together it seems as if I could never be any other rag doll than this.
He is gone, and today is one of those days where the mere thought of his smile, and the grandchildren he will never hold, leaves me slumped beneath covers well past the sound of alarms. She is here, and still fighting. Years ago, when the cancer first dug in its nails, she said, "I just don't want to die stupid." Her brain was her greatest and only asset. At least, this is what she truly believes.
She struggles with memory right now, a combination of insane, tidal waves of grieving, and the very chemicals that keep her illness at bay. It offends her. This vulnerability and dependency; the lessening of identity. Another woman who could no more turn off the constant barrage of thinking/planning/assessing than she could cease being herself.
And I do not want to be her.
I want to embody your wish. Be the space outside the lines and thoughts. A ready champion of the silence in between. Wielding my brain as a tool, a stepping stone, a gift, and able to lay it down upon a mantle when done. To finally be who I actually am, instead of (only) what I am able to do. To finally, maybe, not see my life as the conquerable or controllable. To lessen each compulsion to beat struggles into submission.You have yearned so readily for this, that I am now wanting this more than ever for myself.
I wish your wishes for me didn't mean so much.
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