The day after... when something that occupied your life ended and you start again. When you have hard time breathing. When you feel life slipping through your fingers. When you know that nothing is enough and the waste of life is a real thing and you are living it.
Maybe that is the indication that I was working too much on others and not enough on myself. And at that realisation I feel guilty, the curtsey of my family. They explain my most feared things as nothing but my imagination. I don't have kids because I don't want them enough. The concentration and effort I put in my mental stability is just result of the fact, that I have "too much time".
It is funny how some comments fuel you inner turmoil. It doesn't matters who they come from. Once a very dear family member said (when I did something) "Oh maybe you are not as stupid as you seam!" And all I could do is smile and say thank you, but I know I cannot rid the stench of that comment.
And when there is time like today... when everything comes bubbling on the surface. You feel guilty for things you never even participated in. You take care of things that were rudely dumped on you and then you take all the insults in stride and smile. Good God and that smile. When you soul weeps but you smile, because if you don't and loose your concentration everything comes crushing down in public... But when you are alone, walls do come down. They just close up on you and you cannot breath.
Today everything sticks. I feel weighted down and trapped. I cannot move. But I smile! Oh I smile like my life is depended on it, and in some way it is. How I wish I was strong as some and I would be able to take everything in stride and learn to take that everything that comes my way is the best thing that could ever happen. Someday I hope I will. But today even the notion that the air that I breath is not a wast, is a huge accomplishment. So I try and I breath... Maybe this too shall pass...
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