SaltofThaEarth 🥀

Stuck

Every morning it’s the same thing.

I’m not feeling like I have another opportunity for joy in my life, instead I am worried about the next loss I will suffer…Who’s next to leave me? My closest sibling (my older brother) spent a good majority of his life wrestling with demons of depression and is not in the best health. My heart hurts at the thought of him laying in a casket! So I’m clinging onto him as if he is my life’s blood right now! If I’m honest I know that just because he’s not the picture of health doesn’t mean that he is next… in fact I believe that he will fight to stay with me just like momma did! I know that we all have to go some day but that doesn’t prepare you for the reality of it. The reality of this world without momma is a nightmare that I continue to endure day after day.

This sadness is not going anywhere easy and I am tired of holding it in my heart…my hardest work ahead is to enjoy the here and now and let what tomorrow brings wait until tomorrow. How I’m supposed to do that?

Signed feeling kinda stuck between yesterday and today

Leo

April 4, 2021

It’s early in the morning (6:18 am) and I’m up having a ton of different thoughts going through my mind. I’m thinking mostly about a friend that I spent the day with yesterday. We have known of each other for a few years now but never spent any real time together.

He spoke of a few pet peeves while we conversed but I was careful not to say too much. I’m learning when getting to know someone that I must listen and consider what is being said. Not so much to recall those details, but to look behind and try and find where or from what circumstances that idea was born.

My experiences with my past relationships shaped who I am today. It’s reasonable then, I believe, to assume the same is true for this young man.

Yes a detail that I hadn’t shared yet…He is 18 years younger than me.殺

This could be a problem if I was younger but I am 50 years old so…no one cares really. He is a very grown man and very smart and resourceful. I find him intriguing and I want to know more.

I’m having trouble communicating which seems to be an art that I have yet to master, verbally that is… I feel like I communicate well when I write. Reader, do you think I communicate well in this realm? I don’t know for certain and I think I need to rehearse what I might say to my friend let’s call him Leo because his hair looks like a mane about his head.

Dear Leo,

It’s the morning after and I chose to sleep at home in the comfort of my familiar surroundings. A safe distance from you in order to gather my thoughts. I remember you saying that you liked to write. I hope you have the same affinity for me and what I produce with my virtual pen. Do you know how beautiful you are to me? Nah beauty is not only a feminine adjective but if that word you feel doesn’t suit you than I offer another…Regal. I wonder if you really know the way your posture introduces you? On top of that you have the audacity to grow your own crown! In every way you appear quite regal and even humbly majestic.

When I allowed you into my personal space I could sense your angst though I figured it was just my age or something. As I played in your locks and drew you into me I could feel you sink in…Yesss…relax and exhale. I mean you no harm. I cannot promise that I won’t hurt you because I am human and prone to fuccin up! (Just being real). We all have our struggles and I am a work in progress but I’m not excusing premeditated methodical selfish behavior. I do not practice deceit. A victory is not a win unless I earned it with my own wits about me. I am a lover in that I show love from the beginning and you help me decide how much distance (and love) you truly deserve by your actions.

When you speak of your past I must confess I feel that you maybe have some things that you are still dealing with. It’s perfectly fine to be a work in progress my love and where you were isn’t where you want to stay. Keep moving ahead. One step at a time until you find yourself beyond the hurt. Lord knows that I know this one. It’s the story of my life! Guard your heart and miss your blessing if you want. I’ve learned that emotional walls not only keep out the hurt but anything else that you may feel. You will find it difficult to keep me on the perimeter. Love and light is like a soothing balm to an aching heart.

I won’t push in unless invited

Love Salt 殺

Don’t feel any realer

They say writers gotta write. Most of the time when I think of something to write I’m driving in my car where I am master of my domain. I have control over what is said in this place and no one can impose their ideas onto my process.

Thinking about momma. She’s been gone 12 days and just saying that out loud brings awareness to the knot in my chest. In 12 days I don’t feel like I have made any progression , except to exist through the journey. How is it that I feel stuck in the moment? I keep recollecting different moments that lead up to March 8. I try and reason with my conscience that I did what I was told, even though I wanted to disobey. I couldn’t send her away to die alone and she didn’t want that either.

The moment when she asked me if I wanted her to die and I felt conflicted in saying No momma but it hurts to watch you suffer this way. I want you to live forever momma! It’s a hurtful thing to watch your mom cling to life while her body betrays her. Death is not a pretty sight either. Momma didn’t close her eyes and sleep her life away.

The sores on her feet that infected her bone gave her hellish nights filled with writhing about and moaning in pain. Her lack of appetite left her belly empty and she kept getting nauseous from the pain meds. She was too weak to get out of the bed so I had to roll her back and forth to remove the soiled diaper from underneath her and replace it, after cleaning her, with a new one. She would groan at every push and pull. The left leg that she broke never healed properly. That posed an even tougher challenge of not causing her more pain. SMH.

These past 12 days haven’t made it any realer. Seeing her corpse laying in the coffin didn’t make it no realer…Walking past her dark and empty room doesn’t make it any realer…in the past 12 days I don’t feel any different…and I can’t quite describe how I feel…feels more like a lack of feeling…but then again I feel this knot in my chest… and I know that it’s the water behind the dam…the dam already has some cracks. How many cracks will it take before the dam burst? How many heart breaks will it take before I really am numb? Can I choose to be numb? Does that really happen? How does it work? I don’t know. I don’t get it. Where am I in my grief? Can anyone tell me?

Thorn

I know that I run

Hot and cold with you

One week I am after that D

The next week I ghost you

What is this girls problem?

I’m sure you’re asking yourself

Does she even know what she wants?

I don’t know what I want

Better than that I know what I do

I need a safe space

To tell you how He damaged me

Exactly who he left behind

Once he took what he wanted and

deposited in me a life of misery

For the man who would love me

He must understand that with this flower

there is a thorn

Between him and I

must inform so that my

Conscience is clear and…

He can decide for himself

Quite unlike what was did for me in

denying me mine, Choosing for himself

If only for a few

Who are you? Whom do you presume to be?

A sight for my sore eyes and for my soul to feed

This hunger within me…that sees a need

To release at least 3…deep ones in me

That need…you would seem to be able to fill with…

Sweet affirmations and visualistic appeal

With no real effort you seduce my soul…

It seems like second nature to you…,that you…

Know just what to say and just how to deliver

words that…

soothe the aches in my heart as I

I watch my mother die…

This is a death for not only she,

but in you I see a way for me

To leave this place of hurt,

if only for a few…

I can then fall in the midst of you

Between your arms, enfold me and see

What heaven would feel like if I could be…

Yours and maybe you could be mine, If

What you seek in me is there and you find…

that love is a real destination and my

heart, although broken still works just fine

Hyper Vigilance

Dating in a pandemic is not what I am used to. Dates for me was going to dinner, watching a movie in a theater while eating popcorn. I have gone to the county fair and sampled the food and ridden giant roller coasters at Magic Mountain on dates. A couple of times I met someone at a club and danced with them. Went home with them. Had breakfast with them the very next day.

I recall feeling safe to get in my dates’ car and even driving out of town with him. It never occurred to me that my date might have nasty thoughts about me. Don’t misunderstand me when I say ‘nasty’ thoughts!! Some nastiness is cool. Like the nasty Janet Jackson means when she sings, “Miss Jackson if you’re nasty!” This is more like Bundy nasty. The nasty thoughts some folks have that created the need for pictures on milk cartons.

I also remember being warned of the dangers of the internet. How once you put something on there it is out there in the universe and irretrievable.

As I consider the things that I have sent out into that universe I chuckle!! Oh well! My personal business is out there in the universe. I don’t know how hard you have to look or who you would have to ask but you could see my ta tas if you wanted! Lol! Possibly more than that. SMH. I can’t blame it on being young and dumb either! I didn’t start up the height of experimentation until my 40’s.

2020 was a year for many firsts. Some Miss Jackson firsts and some just nasty firsts. It introduced me to blackouts and possible roofies, and wicked people who looked friendly. I found myself feeling like Little Red Riding Hood staring at the wolf’s sharp teeth. The smell of his breath offending me as he stands in my face snarling getting ready to eat me!

So what am I supposed to do now? Now that I am traumatized and untrusting of anyone. I don’t know what will become of me. If I don’t figure out how to get past the pain I don’t know how anyone can get close enough to me. Honestly, I don’t know if I can get past it. This pain seems to have me cornered. Convincing me that everyone is nasty. No one is good and I may as well give up. Settle into a monk style life. No love life for me and the tragedy that has become my life will rule.

Merry Jane (Momma)

If my eyes were blue and not brown

I wonder if you could see

That it seems to hard to raise my chin to be

Parallel with the ground

Every day is a step closer for you…further for me

Into a world where you won’t ever be

I’ve known it was coming…we all have that date

To report and pass on from this world and face

Heaven or hell, reincarnation, or something else

Whatever it is I hope for momma she can finally rest…

Right now momma is still here,

so I am going to say,

I love you momma for another day

Inappropriate thoughts

I now have this new zest for life!

So much so that it seems to come off way thirsty I’ve realized lately so,

I thought it better to retreat to my introspection

I know that I am a weird one and I’m ok with that

As long as doing what suits me

with little regard to those who would try

to judge me while having their dirt too doesn’t bother me…I can live with it

We met at a pivotal point in my life

As I was licking my wounds from the hurt I suffered

You told me that he was an idiot

You told me that I was too substantial for a dating site

In the darkness you spoke life into my ear

Regardless of your intent

Whether it was gassing me up with an agenda or not

Those words I believed and I felt like you were my friend

Granted a friend that had inappropriate thoughts about me! Lol

I didn’t do anything to discourage it either! Why tf would I do that? Lol

Please allow me to meet the brilliant mind that is you someday, no rush really!! in person

I promise you I won’t harass you for sex! 

Seriously I’m ALL bark and zero bite 臘‍♀️

Honestly 50 is feeling like that being by myself is the key to happiness

Denial

…denial helps us minimize the overwhelming pain of loss. As we process the reality of our loss, we are also trying to survive emotional pain.

I do not want to mourn for my mother while she is yet alive…but I do…every day.. I want to coach her onto her feet again, but she won’t even try anymore…She pretends to but then when we come to her bedside to assist she says that she is too weak..she is beginning to cough now..I say to myself, “COVID19 is claiming another one…if her…than why not me?..I have been caring for her for almost 6 weeks…is this my very near future? I do not want to begin the 5 stages on myself but something inside me nags at the idea that I am in the stage of denial already…I have not been tested..i don’t have a cough..no fever…no flu like symptoms of any kind so I believe my body and don’t stress about it. Hell! I got enough stress…I got school…I got momma…I got Mo..well Mo is a necessary dependent. He helps me care for his gma…I worry about him too…We are in her face everyday…Mo…my gentle giant of a son loves his gma…he helps and has not said a word about her being positive for COVID19..I do not want to let me thoughts torment me of this being his future either…we wear the N95 masks..we wash our hands and use hand sanitizer when leaving her room..I pray this is not a stage of denial..If so I got some shit I want to make sure is heard before I go out into the universe to discover there has gotta be something better than this!!!!

I would still take care of my momma knowing that it would kill me too..No regrets…If I have my way she will die with me holding her hand..we were not always sweet to one another…We both failed to meet each others needs at times…momma always loved me…I always loved her and I will continue to love her until I die…she was good to me…I guess there is really no way that I can hold off the grieving for momma while watching her want so badly to get out of that bed and not being able to even bend her legs or her waist…it is as if rigor mortis is setting in slowly and her mind and heart have not accepted death…so she lays in the bed in a partially paralyzed body…it hurts momma…to watch you fight…hurts to see you hurt…i wish I could do more to comfort you…even hugs hurt you…i kiss you on the forehead and say to you, “I love you momma.” I will leave you so you can rest now…every time you say,”I love you too.” I hope that it is not the last time…

Wee Hours

I read somewhere that writers are their most productive, or insightful in the wee hours of the night. I cannot help but acknowledge this statement to be true for me. I am a writer. I used to think that one day I would become a writer, but everyday I am writing something! Now I don’t count to do lists and grocery lists in there just FYI! It may be only in my head sometimes because my hands are full and I can’t write at the moment. Yet and still every day I write.

I am enrolled in an advanced writing course this semester and I am assigned a few papers to write. I know that my instructor can critique and teach me things that will aid me in my writing but I am having it hard sitting down to write for class. It feels constricting. I want to think and ruminate on whatever is on my mind and write. I want and need the instruction, because I want to be a successful and hopefully a paid writer someday. Some folks will say that many successful authors were not formally educated and I know that already. I am a student and I want to take advantage of what University can do for me. My mind state needs to change to that frequency instead of the slave one that I am on! SMH!

It is 5:03 am…I have been up since 2 am. when my son came to my door and asked for help with grandma. “She has been crying out for help for 2 hours now, and I don’t know what she needs ” he says. We go in her room together and roll her over to her opposite hip. The nurse informed me that she should never lie on her back because of the diabetic ulcer on her tailbone. Of course I wouldn’t leave her laying on her back anymore after the night. I found her choking on her own bile because she was too weak to roll over!

Oh momma…I’m so sorry that you are clinging to life in this sick and decaying body. It is hard to watch my momma die. I am having a rough time typing because my vision is blurred by the tears welling up in my eyes. I brought her home from the home because I wanted to be with her when she died. I didn’t want her to be in a covid restricted nursing home where I could not sit at her bedside and hold her hand. Caring for her myself is hard, and I know that I am overwhelmed, but I want mommy to be at home. She loves this house and wants to be here. Life will carry on for me beyond hers I think. You never really know though do you? Who’s to say that I will outlive her? She may be older, sicker, and closer to death than me but it means nothing. I am hoping that I do outlive her. At least long enough to hold her hand when she goes. I love you momma… I dont want you to ever die but I know that you can’t stay so I will be here for you now. Although it hurts to watch you struggle to move, and cry out in pain I will keep telling you that it will be ok. I will keep telling you that I will be fine and you don’t need to worry. You did a great job raising me, even though I gave you shit on the regular! I am glad that I have you and I want to be sure that you know that you are loved and cherished by your baby girl Vickie