Mr December Blues

There is always more

I just wanted 5 minutes today. 5 minutes without the free fall into the chaos of an 8 year old kid who didn’t or shouldn’t know what chaos was. The spiralling need at that age for me was to take control of what ultimately was uncontrollable. I thought as a kid that the chaos was all my fault . And even now, as an adult, I still do.

There are many things that trigger the revisits of these feelings. They never go away, you just dull them, dampen them. It could be a word, the way it is spoken, a song, where the mind and body was the first time you heard it . The electrical pathways to the brain ignite and you are back there, lost, confused and flailing. The wading through the waters of the days like these bring bigger waves . Too big for an 8 year old in a 57 year old skin chamber . You try not to drown. You try to hang on.

So I couldn’t control it. It wasn’t my fault. Why is that mantra so hard to repeat, to channel into ? Why is the default wiring to own the blame?

I try to stay quieter in the world these days, I try to sit with that kid and not take up too much space . He needs room to feel and to be relevant and I need to let him have that room.

Maybe we should just sit and talk, you and me. We never do that anymore. How are those wounds that were open? Still open I guess. I’m going to tell you something you might want to listen to. You did ok, we both did ok. And then there’s the battle of what is ok on the horizon, what does ok look like, you can see it coming over the hill. I stopped to watch something beautiful and my heart slowed to its resting pace. Let that be a lesson young warriors, carry it onwards. To stop is the greatest tool to keep going. It’s not too great for the busy mind to stop. The darkness wanders through. But if you stop to see something beautiful, remark on it in your own voice, in your own language and let it live there to drown out the rumble.Keep drowning the rumble.Keep writing the lines, keep singing the songs and painting the world and and closing down hatred and noise.

I’ve wandered too long with you on my own, we both needed to shed and to share, like layers of an onion your conker like shell will wither eventually and year after year you’ve tried to rebuild it, put back on the layers,and shelter. 57 years of sheltering is a lot of tears.

Too long running and hiding. Why ? Was there a reason ? To know you are beautiful is the place we all need to get to . The erosion of that, the chipping away we have let happen takes time to replace. There are cracks that never repair, and that is a fact.

P x