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| missing this Light, my strength |
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Running
Standing perfectly still. But running. Running to escape what seems to have become life. Running in hopes that someway, somehow all of this will just fix itself. Running to escape the cloud that seems to cover my mind, forming my own wall of ignorance in hopes that reality is really the dream and somewhere outside of this fog is real life, normalcy, waiting for me. Because over the course of fourteen months I have taken steps to recover from the trauma of losing my baby girl, but also numbed myself to everything else around me. And I just don't know how much longer I will be able to maintain the facade. And I am almost certain that I won't be able to handle the reality. So off I go. Running.
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I love your writing. Perhaps you could write more, but I know how painful even writing the feelings down is. I don't believe we recover after a great loss; we attempt to live without them, and hopefully, eventually we have longer periods of time when we are in the present moment. The sacred has been torn from your life. You are doing an amazing job of surviving and holding your family together. All my love to you.
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