Lagging Behind vs Forging Ahead

   Which is it? What shall we do? just give in to the part of us that says, “throw in the towel.” “Give in .” ” Take a Break.” ” You earned some time off,”

   Do I tell you how tired I am, how terrified… how I hate the sound of my own voice, my own blog? How can I be upset at the lack of readership when I don’t want to read it either? You know, I have always written, as long as I can remember. And I never cared who read it. God reads the secret person of my heart. Does he know my heart is broken? A husband I had to turn my back on, because he abused me. Friends I chose to leave behind because they were all addicts and users like me. A mother who died five years ago of a horrific disease, who I still miss so much it cleaves me in two. And a house full of the empty rattlings of my sick and crazy father. Oh, and pain. I forgot to mention my ever present companion, but you are as sick of hearing me whine, as I am of doing it.

  My Mom’s cat, Munson, Is dying. I promised her that I would take care of him. But I can’t anymore. I can’t keep him alive any more than I could her. It feels like watching her die all over again. 

  And I’m gripped with an awful sense of dread that Daddy is going to die soon. too. 

   I took extra medicine to sleep last night. And I asked God to forgive me for doing it. I watched a pinprick of light thru my half closed eyes until it disappeared. and I prayed for relief.

   Am I disappearing?  


  Ahh well, another night. Into the black.

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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