The past few months, despite what it would appear –I have written so many things. Mostly, broken bits and pieces here and there, the fleeting thoughts and momentary feelings that threaten to drown me alive. Things that don’t make sense or connect, things that drop off mid-sentence and start up somewhere else. Things that one day, I hope to burn, destroy or delete. Not because they don’t make sense –but because they are deeply personal and come from a time in my life I hope not to remember one day.
The one thing that is the common thread, ripping between the mismatched sentences and half-baked thoughts is one word. A word I rarely use and hardly ever admit to. A word that runs so deep and so far that I am not sure it will ever go away completely. Fear: Ironically, the very word that puts fear into me, is the one word that runs deep within.
To be quite honest –I am terrified.
Terrified to drop back into a life that is still waiting for me –regardless of how far I have run from it. Terrified of the way things will be. Terrified of the months to follow. Of trying to raise another child. Again. Now.
There are things that people fear: Spiders, the dark, thunder, storms…even death.
I fear life.
I fear that life will take every last person that I love. Destroy me from the inside out. Take away every last person that I care about and leave me to rot. As if punishing me –death is not kind enough to take me, but rather will take everyone I love and make me watch. Helplessly. Forcing me to live –without the very ones that make my heart beat.
I fear that death will leave me here, once it has taken everyone else.
I fear going home.
I fear facing reality.
…I fear 2 am, when the thoughts are heavy and I am alone. When they haunt me, hunt me down and torture me. As if to say losing them wasn’t enough –now you must be tortured by the thoughts that you should have. Could have. If only.
I fear choosing wrong.
I don’t honestly know, how to get up. I don’t know how to move on. I don’t know how to recover. I don’t know if I even should try. I don’t know when to throw in the towel and scream with my last breath “Enough is enough already!”
I am tired of sitting by, watching the ones I love die. I am tired of saying goodbye. I am tired of picking up the shattered pieces of my heart and reassembling them. I am tired of trying to make people believe I am ok. I am tired…of being so fearful.
I have plenty of thoughts. Plenty to say. But everything I want to say is riddled with the deepest fear that this life just isn’t worth it. Everything I have to say goes beyond the holly-jolly time of year. It goes against the grain of life.
There just aren’t any more ways to say: I am tired. I am scared. I am done.