Elvis has left the building…

I’m cold. Stone-faced, frozen. Jaw clenched. Tongue pressed to mouth’s roof. I force myself  into  a  flat  state;  afraid  to  feel.  My  gaze  is  fixed,  on  anything;  on  nothing.  My fingers move mechanically.

My first-born beloved niece is getting married today. I am not there.

Joyous celebration eerily rings.

Marriages  torn  apart, imploded, do not merely represent two people no longer  together.  It rips your soul, your identity to shreds. Over half of my life simply ceased to exist

in a flurry of senseless chaos.

Sword sliced.

A cruel hack job.

Mental illness, bah!

I despise your cruelty.

I have remained silent in all of it. Unable to communicate. Disbelief. Shock. Delirium.

I want to get completely fall-down-inebriated drunk. I won’t. My throat is a basketball. I ought to take it to the Lord. He knows I know and I mentioned it to Him I am sure. I cannot open my mouth to utter words. I have not come so close to throwing up due to emotional reasons since I was a child. The repeated kicks to my  gut are nearly too  much to bare.

No more please.

Nearly as bad as when this dear child’s mother passed from cancer. A different quality.

Only now, I remain apart and alone in my anguish. I silently scream.

Through a looking glass. An outsider in my once treasured family.

Wedding glass

I am at my parents in the midst of making dinner but am not here.

The true arch enemy of my soul though has been identified;

and yet I WILL praise my Lord and my God.

Just give me this time to wallow, to grieve yet another loss.

To sit in it and not run. For once, to stop running.

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