I Will Take As Many Words As I Want To Write This Story
[b]Thanksgiving[/b]
Whenever I release a compilation of my material this will part of it.
[b]Thanksgiving[/b]
[i]It’s Monday of Thanksgiving week and I know each day I’ll die a bit more inside.Holidays and the events around them are like that to me. Stressful. Tense. I feel detached from what should be days of celebration. I am not alone. Millions like me know a deep depression is days away from setting in as we experience loneliness and heartbreak.
It’s already daunting for those that have no one to share life's journey with. Thiers is a special brand of hell that only they can relate to. Aloneness is one thing and loneliness and being alone are two different things. Parents of grown adults that now have families of their own weep while they remember days gone by when their house was filled with joy, laughter, togetherness, and bonding. Cherished memories that now taint the soul and play havoc with the heart and mind.Tears have been cried so often they now just stubbornly form in the corner of the eye and wait to dry on their own. They are as lonely sentinels of an emotion released far too many times.
I can feel the tension in my chest build. It’s expected. Almost like an unwelcome visitor that shows up yearly for a month long stay. I know each day it will get worse as the detachment sets in. I can feel my blood pulse without trying to. I try to smile. I can’t.
I find it hard to be thankful for others and what they have when the one thing I WANT to be thankful for the most, another woman that accepts, cares and loves me as I do her, is lacking. Can we love a ghost? Of course not. Can we love ourselves? Most definitely.
And some days that has to be enough.And while we should be thankful for life and OUR life in particular ...some weeks that is just
not enough.
Not even close.
[/i]
2019 Alexis Zinovenko. Copyright Pending. All Rights Reserved.
Whenever I release a compilation of my material this will part of it.
[b]Thanksgiving[/b]
[i]It’s Monday of Thanksgiving week and I know each day I’ll die a bit more inside.Holidays and the events around them are like that to me. Stressful. Tense. I feel detached from what should be days of celebration. I am not alone. Millions like me know a deep depression is days away from setting in as we experience loneliness and heartbreak.
It’s already daunting for those that have no one to share life's journey with. Thiers is a special brand of hell that only they can relate to. Aloneness is one thing and loneliness and being alone are two different things. Parents of grown adults that now have families of their own weep while they remember days gone by when their house was filled with joy, laughter, togetherness, and bonding. Cherished memories that now taint the soul and play havoc with the heart and mind.Tears have been cried so often they now just stubbornly form in the corner of the eye and wait to dry on their own. They are as lonely sentinels of an emotion released far too many times.
I can feel the tension in my chest build. It’s expected. Almost like an unwelcome visitor that shows up yearly for a month long stay. I know each day it will get worse as the detachment sets in. I can feel my blood pulse without trying to. I try to smile. I can’t.
I find it hard to be thankful for others and what they have when the one thing I WANT to be thankful for the most, another woman that accepts, cares and loves me as I do her, is lacking. Can we love a ghost? Of course not. Can we love ourselves? Most definitely.
And some days that has to be enough.And while we should be thankful for life and OUR life in particular ...some weeks that is just
not enough.
Not even close.
[/i]
2019 Alexis Zinovenko. Copyright Pending. All Rights Reserved.
