Sunday, September 4, 2011

Because it's all i can do...

          Can you all just sit back and listen for a moment? Because if i don't vent i will explode.  What, you may ask, is the crisis?  That would be the next logical question.  The answer, i would then say, is my rage at being powerless, being mortal, not being able to control others.  For a long time i hurt myself and in my addiction i was able to exist (barely) in a universe where all of my emotions were muted.  Anytime a painful or unwanted emotion would crop up, i could quickly tuck it back down my throat---way down deep in my stomach into a well of nothingness.   I understand wanting to check out of life, to not participate, to watch the sounds and colors pass by in a continuous blur, never stopping long enough so reality could come into focus.
          Having said all of that, it kills me to watch a family member be stuck in this way of life.  I thought it was hard being on the inside.  It's more painful being on the outside looking in.  At least that's how i feel today. 
          I miss having a sister.  I'm sick of the shell that encapsules who she once was.  She has transformed into a terrible version of a podperson.  She's there, but she's not there.  I hate seeing her because i am reminded of how i once was, and i hate seeing her because i cannot make her unstuck.  I cannot make her shed the victim cloak and join the land of the living.
          I am resentful towards other family members who allow her to continue this way and to make excuses for her way of life.  They give her pills and give her another reason to stay in the basement.  They tell her she is sick and that the medication will save her.  I know the medication will kill her, even long before she is dead.  (But what do i know?)
         I experience the pain of the ancient mortal seer Cassandra, who was blessed with gift of seeing into the future, but also given the curse of being disregarded (and frequently thought insane).  While i stand on the shores, crying the forthcoming fall of Troy, those around me ignore my protests and discount my experience.  I, too, envision, destruction.  Destruction of a person that "just isn't there."  Cassandra couldn't change anything. She was only a mortal.  And, today, so am i.

The following poem was especially related to the prompt of Tomorrow by sunday scribblings.

         My mortal stands on the clifftops
         of a rocky shoreline
          Watching the legions of armies coming from across the ocean
         To spill their courage and lifeblood
          An odd sense of dejavu befalls her
                  I have seen these soldiers die before
                  Crushed beneath a thousand arrows
                  Fallen silent in the entrails of the their mighty horses
                  I know the ending of this battle
she says tragically
          The saltwater blows at her feet
           Stinging her saturated skin
       
           My mortal doesn't want to watch anymore
             because she knows she won't be believed
            Apathetic eyes will turn away
             and go back to sharpening their swords
            It must be hard seeing ahead the despair tomorrow
             Despite the calm and silence of today.

9 comments:

jaerose said...

Just beautiful..either part of your post would have made me choke a little..together..spell-binding..sometimes it is so hard to see..to know..Jae

zongrik said...

it was hard to choose which way to go with this, and i thought of the loved one gone theme too. put a bit of that in mine, but the rest of it twisted another way. that's because i could not go through what you must have gone through to write a whole piece about a loved one gone. you are brave.

Boom Boom Larew said...

I had been becoming a pod person myself in recent weeks. Thanks for the reminder to break out.

Dana Leah said...

this is such a powerful post. i have never been on the inside looking out, but i too have been on the outside looking in at someone struggling with this...and you're right, it is so unbelievably painful.

i love that you refer to her as "my mortal" in the poem. that alone shows how much you care for her...

i hope you both find some peace soon. xo

Daydreamertoo said...

This is heartfelt, because in many ways I have been where you are. The feeling of helplessness to help is what hurt the most and it takes time to sort through the mixed feelings of being inadequate, of being useless and such. But, you must allow yourself to think, we each can only control our own lives, we can't live someone else's life for them. We can't dictate how they ought to live it either. We have free choice of what we each do with this gift of life. You obviously went through a whole bunch of things that have bought you to the place of understanding where you are today, but, that is your journey and it is all that you control. The only thing I can say that may be of little help to you is just carry on as you are. Help as and when you can, don't condemn nor judge. Just do what you can in and through and from love and you cannot bear any blame for anyone else's choices.
I feel this all so deeply.

*^_^* said...

Wonderful! Awesome!

becomingkate said...

I hope things change for your sis, and for you.

WyomingDiva said...

Thank you for your comparison of yourself to Cassandra. It was with a bit of a shock that I realized I too have this sort of gift and disregard in my family. I've gotten so used to it, though, that I no longer bother to share with them.

mk said...

helpless I watched,
a little could I do,
wisdom,I want to give...
is far from her reach!!

really nice post....loved ur style of writing!