“When things were working – vs.when they don’t.”
(Title of multiple meanings)
“When things were working – vs.when they don’t.”
(Title of multiple meanings)
“That look of ‘love'” (song lyrics)
I need you to understand that your presence in my life is enrichment – no matter what difficulties are ever occurring.
There is no perfect timing…
Only dreams that we, ourselves, put work into creating.
Sometimes, I have thought that we have seen each other.
But you do not approach me.
Why won’t you?
—
(Deliberate neutrality of tone, here)
“Has erupted.”
—
(Stuff crowding everywhere)
“There is no arguing with it – nor apparently any workaround – when it dies.”
“Being anonymous, I do not need to worry that my eyes, face, and limbs are swollen and puffy from stress, sleep deprivation, and crying.”
In the basement of a favorite building, the haunting atmospheric remains of past power-hungry ignorance mixed with tormenting cruelty boded ill will awaiting to attach to any hapless visitors of the restroom.
Acknowledging, yet doing her best to ignore them and avoid the farthest entrenched spacious cubicle with the alluring brighter lighting, she back-tracked and chose a stall closest to the door – even though it was more cramped and stifle-confining.
Then, as she tried to leave it, her arm reached for her scarf hung up on a hook, and then came quickly downward again – hard-smacking and bruising her elbow against an unusually positioned, solid steel feminine product receptacle.
“THAT’S your one – so now get your energies off of me!” she exclaimed, as she reasserted her boundaries and left the greedy forces to feed upon the pain she left behind her.
“I set out with my phone, computer, snacks, coffee, and workout out clothes…
And the day’s emergency priorities now rise up as beckoning.”
“Chewing handfuls of raw pecans can sometimes taste a hint like maple syrup.”
“Is it at all possible that this sudden having to launch could solidly land me into positive self sustainability?”
“6-packs of snow peas and snap pea delightful seedlings have been driving around in my car with me for the past couple of days.
I am trying to figure out while its raining and I managing catastrophes if I am going to plant them into my pots that are waiting.
Gardening is part of my well being restocking.
And if I cut the roots going through pots into the ground underneath my wisterias, roses, and vining flowers, and fruit trees – and then drastically trim the wisterias’ and vines’ branches back down to their cores to get them unattached to fencing to ready them for moving at this time of spring, will this seriously shock and/or kill them?
And with car troubles now amounting, do I have to switch jobs again after having found a good team to work with so that I can stay more local?
And it has been strongly and repeatedly suggested that I need to rehome my hound so that the older wolf’s health needs can be taken care of.”
“When you’re fu**ed, you’re fu**ed – but it isn’t the right type nor desired fu**ed.”
—
(Doo-tee-dooo…who me?!)
“WHAAAT?
WHAAAAT???
Now I also have a battery issue?!”
—
(Sitting in my car with it running – and the signal goes off, adding to needed oil change and break issue)
“The pure fantasy tell is because ‘he’ keeps joking about how we would laugh after he runs away, I chase him, and then he lets me catch him.
Yes, that would have been delightful fun.
But you know…
I can’t run.”
—
(Sobbing and laughing hysterically, somewhere deep inside)
I am under self lock down as I am having to carefully navigate shark-infested waters where chum is being spilled and old military-type super mines are bobbing – hidden submerged under choppy waters, ready to snag my makeshift raft with their rusted and randomly shifting-about-in-the-waves spike extensions.
“Resist ‘adding more fuel to the fire’ – even if it could be perceived as a valid response to do so.”
“When you bring a traumatized child into a safe home that is healthy, there will come a point where the child goes through crisis meltdowns and “fights” against the people and safety around him/her/them.
Many foster parents do not know that what the child needs is continued safe space and inclusive acceptance, yet firm and gentle continued and corrective guidance, because the child’s nervous system must process and get the trauma out of their being.
Unfortunately, the child’s “acting out” often causes caretakers to give up and send the child elsewhere – or the child runs away, says skewed and villifying things about the foster family, and/or does whatever the child feels it must do (often negatively) in order to respond to its body’s fight or flight reactions.
These trauma recallibration need responses blasting back at safer people and environments also happen in adult survivors of abuse and extreme experience situations such as when soldiers return to the ‘safety’ of home after violent combat.
As a society, we need more understanding and strategized methods of support so that we can best help trauma survivors at any age go through this internal-to-external “reorganization process” recallibration, and positively assist them to find ways to identify and obtain progress in ‘normalcy’ reintegration as feels congruent to their own perceptions.”
I am just in the thick of it…
“Cause it’s like – this.”
Passions inspire – but
How to confirm and
Build solid pairing?
No more I want you’s
Or cameo glimmerings
Every holiday now passed
Except Easter’s Christening
Spring bulbs and budding plants
Are to be consolation destination
Whether I can keep them or not
Resolves for good or desolation
—
(Title of multiple meanings)
“I think to myself, how did things not hurt before the accident?
Back when tissues maintained internal structure – instead of crossing over boundaries into pulling on discs, joints, nerves, and vessels – just trying to sleep on ny side?”
Today, she would struggle one last time to salvage her situation – which had just now been flipped into its back as the world was tilted and sent it toward the maws yawnung doom – but the gaps were now widening and slipping along too quickly to where she could no longer grasp at any edges.
Candy that clouds eat?
Candy that is like a cloud?
An endearment…
“The nerve pain is now traveling, defining itself in ways beyond extremes of before.
This is a 6-day work week for me.
From nothing post concussion and needing to be minimal still post accident – to beyond max, immediately.
It’s expected of me if I am to survive what’s happen8ng.
I am not sure how long I can hold before I implode.”
“I hear them laughing.
They are happy.
They have every reason to be happy.
I am glad for them that they are happy.
I helped them get to where they are now happy.
But I am not happy.”
“Living out of bags, again…”
I have not told you about the extremes that my situation has been flipped and exploded into, capsizing my every good and productive, mutually-beneficial-to-everyone strategies while having the tide turned suddenly hard against me as I am rapidly being swept toward a whirlpool without a life boat…