When momma mothers addiction.
While something stirs within, a roar of silence overcomes the whisper of hope. This is it. The hand is dealt, the time has come, you lose.
Is this a meltdown of sorts? For the first time in my life, I am crying out to myself- not a doctor, not family, not even God. I am internally wailing at myself to wake up, to feel, to live. Yet, I have zero response in me.
Where something beautiful should be, lies a vacant space only filled with the waste of pain. Years of abuse scavenged every last bit of light—a broken mind from a broken heart.
Chasing disappointments that have plagued me for years now, I am somber. There is a sense of grief for a person I desired to be. My sheltered dreams seem unattainable. Life is more about everyone else than me.
In dreams they stay.
A few words on grief and loss.
There was relief
In the final sigh..
When surrender felt
Like breath of life..
Who wins when all is lost?
Tonight I remember Amy Bleuel, founder of Project Semicolon. She was the voice for many. Her encouragement and dedication to the fight against suicide was empowering.
She grew tired and lost her battle. On this night, I get it.