Trust Issues

The last time someone told me the truth it only proved the other truths were lies

So excuse me if I rummage through old baggage in search of something new

Unpacking has taken a while I’ll admit, and most of this stuff needs a garbage

Then I could make room for something better; then I could make space for you

Is that too heavy?

Saying so won’t make me think any less. Saves us both time.

Understand I’m a little broken. Except I’m real about it. See, that’s all I’m looking for–honesty.

 

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

august 2018

Advertisements

From the Archive: Five Years Ago

Where did you go, you know, the person?  Not the one we see but the you inside.

Where did you go?  You let them strip you of your joy,  your energy, your light.

Lose who you are and you become a collage of everything and everyone else.

 

Feeling some sort of way that I can’t define. Is it depression? Frustration? Inertia? My writer’s brain says “caged” but that’s a bit dramatic. It’s a long story that I suppose my conscience has nudged me about before. Something has been trying to tell me something for years.

So when do you say, enough is enough? When do you just…free fall? Is there anything besides concrete down there when I jump?

The abridged version of this story is that the current circumstances aren’t working, at all. However, being the overly cautious thinker I am, I’m reluctant to just open a window and plummet.  It seems impractical to starve while happy, and yet it’s crazy to make money while sacrificing one’s self, family, and sanity. Tis the world we live in. We learn to become collages.

I eventually retired from retail in 2012 due to health issues and a couple of surgeries, one of which didn’t go well.  Now, because of more life changes, I find myself at yet another crossroad.

True, I’ve enjoyed the freedom of being fully present when it comes to family. And in hindsight, things happened that I don’t know if I could’ve dealt with while working full-time–serious illnesses, the death of my father, marital separation.

It baffles me that I got more writing done while working thirty to forty hours, with two small children, than I do without a binding schedule and with kids old enough to occupy themselves. I’ve enjoyed watching them grow, I’ve also missed the security of steady paychecks.  I’m saying this to say that happiness doesn’t come from circumstance. Happiness is a state of mind, period.  But we have to figure out who we are, what we want, and how we’ll balance our true callings with the titles society places upon us.

Who are you? Where did you go? Lose who you are and you become a collage of everything and everyone else.

 

Your turn:

In definition of “inner calling” how would you define yourself?

In terms of societal titles, name at least three that describe you.

If you’re not being true to yourself, what’s the reason?

Map out a way to get back to the real you 😉

 

F.Y.I

In definition of inner calling, I’d define myself as: a writer, an empath, a peacemaker

In terms of societal titles, I’d describe myself as: a mother,  an estranged spouse, an introvert who knows how to play it off when necessary

I’m not true to myself because: I’m not a fan of failure, abstract ideas, or what-ifs

And yes, I’m mapping out a way of getting back to the real me 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For That I Am Sorry

There’s something she didn’t give you

Affection,

attention?

Whatever it was it wasn’t enough

She wasn’t scarred enough,

Didn’t understand your demons

She didn’t laugh enough, live

But what she provided was stability

Loyalty, all the boring words one looks for

Beyond adventure and fun

 

You sought solace in dark places

Hell and shot glasses

She swept broken pieces

Only to hurt herself in the end

And you’ll never honestly say,

This is why you couldn’t save me

And she’ll never really know

What you needed saving from

 

*

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

3/2017

 

 

 

 

 

January, Untitled

Without you, my days would consist of web surfing and naps
Too much quiet, too much time for melancholy
Miles would remind me I’m Kind of Blue
And I’d drink Merlot for breakfast
And lunch. And dinner
You’d ask if I’m falling apart;
I’d answer,The Merlot is gone
Too much time. Too much time without you
You ask if I’m falling apart. I think how empty life would be
Without you

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

Jan 25 2017