The Normal

Through my journey I have worked to achieve a new normal.  A new way of looking at things. A new way of living my life.  Still, I revisit my “before time” too often and I feel like I have a wasted life.  I used to be smart and witty and a singer and a worker and pretty and fun and I and least never lost hope that I would have a good life if I worked hard enough.  At this point, I am 36, I have no home to call mine, I have no job, no car, no money.  It makes me wonder if I do the things I do because it is something to keep me busy until I die.  I love helping people, I love being useful to others.  But when the help is done and I am alone again, I hold a vigil for the me that once felt like I could be something more than this.  Whatever I am now.  I feel like a tool.  I get used to fix other people’s problems then they can go lead a productive life while I die a little more inside. There are people who have it worse than me, so I know I should try to just be happy, but everyday I wish I had come off of that table with a simple mind that didn’t feel trapped inside of a body that tortures me incessantly.  I suppose my work here is not done.  I will continue to bear the burdens of those around me until they finally weigh me down enough to give up.  I miss my life.  I miss my autonomy.  I miss living, because this IS NOT LIVING. I simply exist. 

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Dreaming…

thedream

Dreaming the dream!

Life is full of dreams.  They change and mature as we grow and sometimes when we are on the cusp of achievement, the dream dies.  I felt this way last year when my doctor told me I would need brain surgery.  Everything that I had worked for was snatched from my hand and I was left with what felt like nothing.  I could no longer sing arias or even hold my guitar.  And when I could hold the guitar, my fingers wouldn’t always cooperate.  After surgery, I got a ukulele to help me with retraining my fingers to listen to my brain.  It has been the most comforting item during this period of my life.  When everyone is sleep and I am wide awake, I can sing and play and feel like my voice is still relevant.  I may never go back to school.  I may never perform a solo again.  I may never be what I thought I would be.  I will sing though, and I will imagine all the people whose hearts I could have touched.