I just slayed a demon (or letters to the narcissist. Same. Same.)

Thank you for the conversation. It was one that needed to be had. You didn't ask about my daughter. She's coming back to Brisbane. 😊 This makes me very happy. Besides yoga gym work, repeat, and doing everything possible to take care of this vessel my soul walks around in. It's all about the zen. Like I said, I am not the same person I was 12 months ago. I look at photos of her and think I'm not her anymore. I am truly sorry that you are in a dark place. I hope you can find your way out. And...

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Salt water

In the past when I've been caught in the sea of emotions, and the waves start rolling in, I've tried to out run them. I'd get caught, and picked up and tossed around, turning over and over, lost in the turbulence. Or I would try to jump over them, only to get a slap of emotion across the head, the force throwing me off balance. This time I trying something different. I'm diving into those waves. Sometimes there are only moments to catch my breath before I have to dive again. And sometimes...

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Everything is just TOO...

The sun is too bright. Temperature too hot, or too cold. Blankets too heavy. Voices are too loud. People take up too much space. Clothes are too restricting. Skin tingles too much. Smells are too sweet, too putrid, too delicious, too disgusting. Touch is too demanding. My senses are too heightened. My emotions are too intense. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm too hard to love. I have too many feelings. It is all too much....

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The conversations I didn't think I'd ever be having

I had to go to the ladies when I was out to dinner with my daughter and her partner, so I could let my tears fall without having to give an explanation. I didn't want to tell my beautiful girl that I was crying because I'm terrified that I won't get to see all the magnificent things that she is going to do. That I was crying because hearing others making plans a year into the future,  both terrifies me, and makes me sad. I don't make plans that far into the future any more. During dinner...

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Forget. Remember. Repeat.

A constant stream of forgetting. Then remembering. Clothed, I bear the shape of a woman. Naked, a prepubescent girl, my chest a battlefield of scars. The factitious swell of breasts deceives strangers, tricks my mind. Then a stab of pain, like a lightening bolt through the space were a nipple once lay, shatters the illusion. My child, feverish and in need of comfort,goes to rest his head upon my chest. He stops as he remembers, and places a cushion where my breasts should be and lays down his...

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Denail is a river - June

source  "It's back. It's back. It's back." Like an endless loop, those words scream in my head, my gut, every single fucking cell in my body, screaming IT'S BACK. "No. No, its not. Lightening doesn't strike twice in the same place." This is an example of my internal dialogue after finding a lump again in the same breast that I'd had a lumpectomy in two years previously. Every time I felt it, a sense of familiarity came over me. I knew in my gut what it was. But denial...

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I want...

I want to lean into you. To rest my head against your chest  and listen to the sound of your heart beating. I want to feel your embrace.  Arms wrapped around me,  chin gently rubbing the top of my head. I want to taste your lips.  Rest our foreheads against each other's  and breathe in each other's breath. I want to listen to your voice.  Question your thoughts.  Ask why, and what if, and how. I want to lay in your arms.  Fall...

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