Author: Candid Corvid Productions

I get hangups and resentments – insecurities and internal entanglements – just like any other person.

However, I am finding that checking in with myself here helps me focus and keep track of squiggling thoughts that would undermine me.

Or at least, coming here keeps my intentions better focused on where I am going, and striving toward how I want to be

It would seem that once cast adrift survivors make it to shore that stress would relieve.

But in fact, it all comes up suddenly in a rush like choking out swallowed sea water because it is “safe now” to expunge.

I thought I knew – but as trials try to erase me, it’s hard to retain identity.

I had found my new King, but like every other gone before, he was distracted by other intrigues and interests.

I must rule my own kingdom – with or without consort’s crown.

The cost to taxed nervous system must be accounted for by time to rest and recover.

But to do so puts off even more the goals already denied another year.

Puppet strings yanked and pulled to altered dimensions makes it hard to trust again once encounter solid ground.

A sumptuously fluffy, soft and pristine-white throw blanket topped by a deep, blue-green velvet comforter snuggles around me while a copper-lined pillow lifts my head effortlessly as shadows from firelight ambitions dance-flicker upon the wall.

Spending money on holiday decorations for the house is both a daring expense and a rebirth of traditions buried when our family broke apart.

Perhaps our timing was daring, with the risk high and gambling. But it was worth our putting everything toward obtaining a good position in a receptive community.

I see a woman with a ten year old and two younger of his siblings, instructing him firmly while herd-corralling the younglings, and I shake my head slightly in acknowledgement of how heavy the burden she is managing.

To think, I raised two on my own trying to work with a husband with a disability. Hardships are not necessarily the issue – but whether or not you have a partnership of free-flowing collaborating.

The exhaustion now hitting me as if I have come out from a war zone leaves me reeling. Hypervigilance expended and edema resultant.

Was it the physical load or the psychological and emotional compression that was unrelenting?

I am thankful to the people, energetic nuances, and fine lines tweased that helped me slip between cracks to find our way home.

So why am I now having such a bad attitude? I think that I am angry that I had to go through this trial of faith by pressure and fire.

So what that I will now come out more honed as a diamond with more pure shine and less hiding my character!

I resent not having had a choice but to do what I had to in order to prove my grace.

Why? Why must I prove what I have always known, shown, and believed?

Why nail me to a wall so that I had to struggle more and show others by example how to endure to obtain reprieve?

Yes, things could have been worse – but for me, the trials were unnecessary!

I was already on my right path – although where we are now can give us better leverage.

My soul is starved – ravenous and outraged at having its own designs so heinously and intrusively thwarted!

Whether in the same home, from across the country, or on the other side of oceans, my partnerships with men have been long distance.

Rather than “Psychic,” at a glance I thought it said, “Psycho Tarot Readings.”

If you are told that you are beautiful, and given to tools and reinforcement to be beautiful, then even if it was not true before, you can become bold and beautiful. At what point does fantasy crossover into such reality?

The night before our new dawn.

A man can no longer mean to me as much as he has if he has not reciprocated my affections.

I am so paladin!