Caught Up In The Whirlwind

She has been rushing madly from task to task for over 5 years now, maniacally filling the time to keep from feeling the anguish. I have watched her do this her whole life, so sensitive and trembling, her eyes like a baby deer just waiting for the injury. The tears always seeming to well up before the word is even said.

It has been excruciating watching her struggle to get her physical bearings back after the accident, the therapy, the casts, the surgeries and then the vertigo and another accident. Pattern repeated over and over, her birdlike frailness struggling and fighting to crawl over the next hurdle, the next vulgar insult to what once was a strong and healthy, vital physical being. I can’t help but think of the irony of her titling this blog, “The Wind”. Because these past years she has been caught in a cyclone of despair, tornado of uncertainty, tsunami of self doubt .

My suffering is to watch from afar, unable to comfort, unable to embrace or offer words of love that threaten to run screaming from my lips. I think of Kathy, out on the moors, in her own private struggle to make headway towards her own oblivion. The loss of Heathcliff too much to bear, the struggle too painful to go any further.

I don’t think that she knows that I love her anymore. Her vision is so focused on the physical pain and limitations, so focused  on caring for her father, that she no longer feels the love that flows out of me. I want that love to hold her in a cocoon, to gentle push a strand of hair out of her green , green eyes. I long to hold her close to me and hug her tight while she cries out all these years of pain, and then lets the healing sunshine into her cold places.

If it could be done, I would lay her down in a bed of softest down and cover her gently with a soft, plush blanket, as I rubbed out every ache and pain. I would play soft, soothing music, and let the child sleep as long as she wanted to, with no interruption.

I would let her know that I love her, no matter whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Sorry, I must rest now.

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...

Daydreaming as a profession

Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.

emotionspassion.com

Emotional musings

she wrote

liv | poetry | 1997

COLORFUL SISTERS

Traveling Fashion Designers 🌼

Into the Unknown

all journeys start from the within

LikesInternetMarketing.com

Digital marketing blog with articles on affiliate marketing, digital marketing and how to make money online without personally selling anything.

quotidian

Evolving Thoughts

CheChe's Journal

The writerly musings of a mindful Mood Disorder survivor.

Maria Vincent Robinson

Photographer Of Life and moments

Bit of everything

Go with the flow-lifestyle blog

Becoming is Superior to Being

I come closest to succeeding by sharing.

Keys' Sparks

Igniting the fire in you

Ken Hallett Blog

Writing Lostness

Virtual Marionette

Your eyes, my lines.

Rain Coast Review

Thoughts on life... by Donald B. Wilson

From Equator to Igloo

Tales of silly adventures for basic amusement

Dr. Eric Perry

Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

My Serene Words

Seeking Solace in the horizon of life & beyond

Izabell Key

breathe to write

Elan Mudrow

Smidgens

Chai and ChaCha

Chai & Chacha

Lluís Bussé

Barcelona's Multiverse | Art | Culture | Science

Susan T. Martin

Visionaria

Sincerely Sober

Living & Loving My Sober Life!

The Alchemist's Studio

Raku pottery, vases, and gifts

The Wind

blowing thru my BIPOLAR life...

Bittersweet turns

Deep Down Inside...

Invitation to the Garden

gardens, garden history, garden tours, landscape design, herbs, perennials, roses, Southern culture, Southern cuisines, travel

~Borderline~I~Am~

Hey, Nice to meet all of you, my name is Heather. I have BPD. I am here to share my everyday struggles with you, be a support for you, and I am here to chat with you if you want to chat...:)

maggiemaeijustsaythis

through the darkness there is light

@BipolarUs

FollowUs @BipolarUs: A Global Bipolar Support Group • twitter.com/BipoIarUs • BipoIarUs.tumblr.com • facebook.com/BipoIarUs • instagram.com/BipoIarUs • BipoIarUs@outlook.com

Cristian Mihai

builds stuff

Jeyna Grace

A Story Begins

%d bloggers like this: