wings

The wings are feeling heavy tonight. And dark, wilted, curling in on themselves. Amazing how you can live each moment trying to be your best only to get knocked down. I know, I know, it happens to everyone. But there comes a time when you look around and you don't see anyone standing with you. How did that happen? Did I fuck up? Did they all succomb to the darkness? Why's it so cold? Why can't anyone hear me? Because I'm alone. And not really alone but some people's daggers hurt worse than others. And I have a war going on in my own fucking house. I can't take y'all down.

No one's nicer to you when you live a harder-than-normal life. You still have unhappy bosses, snarky coworkers, friends who don't understand or are deaf to your cries of pain. You still have arguments with your partner and children and your mom still gives you that soul-withering, disapproving look. But sometimes i do wonder how much more intense the drama would be if my daughter were a typical girl. There is that.

At times like these, we can only turn inward and search ourselves. Find the pain, find the reason, carve it out, and throw it to the ground, broken and bloody, then look up, take a deep breath and pray that feels better. Lighter. (If it doesn't, rinse and repeat.)

I'm focusing on bringing my mind back to myself. I've sent it out far too much in the last week, and in it's wandering, I've felt lost and weak. Mine is the only life that really matters, if I boil it all down to it's very essence. I was born alone, I will die alone and the only person I have control of is me.

Maybe I have these wings for myself, too.