The thing that really sucks about losing a close friend, besides obviously their death – is that it brings up all those other memories of feelings of losing others, the unresolved pain of losing a beloved grandmother, or the very rough breakup from a lover, or the ending of a job that you really liked, or graduating from college. The current loss stirs the pot of the ingredients of the old loses that are still churning deep in your belly. And it’s almost impossible for me to stop eating, to shut up the voice crying, yelling from deep in my stomach, yelling in pain for long-lost loves.
I looked down, and another box of chocolate chip cookies is empty, except for the crumbs in the bottom. I grab the box, tilt it, and shake it so that the crumbs form into one corner, and pinch the crumbs with my forefingers and shove them into my mouth. Though my physical stomach is in pain from being stretch with the over fullness of food, my spiritual and soulful stomach still writhe in agony, in loud tones that won’t desist.
I have no other coping skill. I wish I could remember how to cry, but it escapes me. I can recall every cruel word said to me by my father, sister, classmates, and employers. I feel the pain of physical punishments from childhood, the helplessness and hopelessness of the physical pain, with no relief in sight, and no snappy comebacks to the cruel taunts and comments. The rage comes to the surface of my skin. I want to hit something, break something, even hurt myself, to express the rage and unnamed emotions that fester just under the skin, but in my bloodstream.
What is the solution? Counseling? Talking incessantly? That has never been a help. Drugs? They have helped somewhat, especially legal prescription drugs, which have a numbing effect.
One beer is about all I can handle, I don’t enjoy the feeling of a drunk. A buzz is ok, but a drunk, no.
I know that King David, in the psalms called out and cried out to God for help. I do ask God for comfort, and sometimes I do feel a level of relief. But other times calmness evades me; I stew in the pain. So I try to breathe in, breathe out, like the yoga folks say. But I wonder about them. They don’t seem to be highly emotional people. But is that because they do the yoga, or they are already calm people, and that’s what attracts them to the yoga?
Well I finally feel tired enough to be able to escape into dreaming for tonight.
Tomorrow I hope to finish some kind of ranting and submit is somewhere to be published. Why I have this drive to be published is a mystery. But it seems to the road the Lord has been holding the flashlight for me as I wander down it.
More in the morning.