My tongue is in my hand…

I want the arms

Posted on: April 16, 2009

I’m doubting everything I said last week. Maybe there won’t be enough. There’s so much to lose. Maybe it won’t be okay (or I won’t be okay). Maybe I can’t keep moving. Maybe I will be paralyzed.  Maybe I just can’t do this again, anymore, at all. Maybe I’m a complete failure. Maybe I’ll never be able to do anything well but this, but write. Maybe I will always be broken. And I will have to eat my words, over and over. The words I write with conviction one moment, I choke on the next, realizing how hard they are to swallow. Or follow.

You have to forgive these pathetic thought patterns, today’s the first day I’ve had to break down. Jason’s out of town. I have the house to myself to freak out in and trash. Until Friday, when I have to pull it all back together. I told myself I was going to get things sorted out and settled before he gets back. But I’m worried now that I won’t (or can’t). I can’t take his anxious, explosive, dictating, impulsiveness when he has nothing to focus on or wear him out (like work). Him wanting to know about the finances so he can freak the fuck out even more. No thanks. It literally makes me sick on my stomach. There are no quick fixes to this situation. We just have to suck it up and take the consequences of our lives, our choices and our circumstances. I have kept our heads above water for so long now. Recognize that…

Anyways, pointless rant. Work is riduculous. That’s all I can say. I feel like I could cry for 2 more days straight.

I feel like as soon as I begin to grasp something, I lose grip.  With everything. There are so many facets of life to lose grip of. So many little things to fail at or forget about or never get to, never finish, never start, never follow through, never reach, never achieve, never touch, never grasp, never hold on to.

I met with someone once, at a park. When I was having a really hard time. I thought they were the arms I’d been seeking, to hold on to me. Turns out, they were just a wall to hear my voice bounce off of. That’s fine. Maybe that’s all some people get. Because unless some people are really good at faking it, some people are getting the arms. I’m afraid, for many reasons, I may not ever have that physical safety net. Maybe I’d melt into oblivion if I had it. Maybe the only thing that drives me is the aches. What would I create if I always felt that safe? What would I do? Would I still move? Maybe that would be a different kind of paralysis. Or maybe it would be a different kind of freedom. I know within me, there is everything. But I still want more. I want the arms.


2 Responses to "I want the arms"

Oh god how did I miss this one? I’ve been gone… ugh.

Bex I feel so hard for you. Even though this was all posted a week ago I hope to you’re doing better. You’ll be okay. Just like that quote you posted. It will all be okay, and if it isn’t… then it’s not over yet.

You are one of the oh so few people with the capacity for a truly eternal perspective and you’ve got to keep to that. You can eat it when you’re hungry and drink from it when you’re thirsty and breathe it when you’re suffocating.

I’ll be praying for you.

Take care…

Thank you Caleb. 🙂

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