Friday, July 6, 2012

Spit Splutter and Shed

Somewhere between last July and now, I lost my way. That is an interesting expression, don't you think? What is this way, of mine, that I lost?

I used to write, sharing the brutal details of my life in a sometimes humorous but mostly shocking way. Then along came the considerably foul and wretched incubus brothers known as anger, bitterness, resentment, defeat, hopelessness and their inglorious mother, depression. I think anger and resentment stopped by first as evidenced by the majority of my posts; every reference point or interesting topic in my life ended with an embittered diatribe railing against the ex and his maternal representative.

I was pissed. Spitting mad. And that's saying something cause southern women don't spit.

But underneath all that hellfire, loathing, pitiful-me-pouting resided a frightened girl so entombed in fear she was cut off from her own soul. Having fancied myself a soulful girl, you can imagine how that felt or rather, didn't feel.

The first year after Mr. Sunshine went to prison, we did okay; meaning, I was okay. Then in August of 2011 I lost my prominent long term job. I wanted to move back to Oklahoma, to tuck my tail firmly in and run like the wind but that was a page I was not allowed to turn back. From that hot summer day to this one, here I stand, still pissed.

I wrote the previous post exactly one year ago today. It was enlightening in a not so uplifting way to read it and discover my feelings haven't changed much. I could easily tear off into a rant right this very minute, stocked with an arsenal of the atrocities committed by those who continue to joyously dance on the top of my head, including the aforementioned demon spirits. But I won't.

Instead I would like to give this a whirl:

If you read the last post then you will understand when I say I am ready to shed my own skin. Mr. Sunshine gets out of prison this fall and I am terrified. Our lives will experience another upheaval; emotional battles, court battles, old grievances and new axes to grind will splutter and reign unless I can embrace the celestial radiant light provided by my sisters Grace, Joy and Gratitude and our mother Courage.

Wish me luck, for a new journey has begun.


  1. More than luck, I wish you blessings.

  2. Such an excellent surprise to see your posts.

    I'm still here.

    You are too.

    I love you and think about you everyday.


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