getting weird

Alright...I've agreed to get better...and in return this girl is going to take her chemo and try to live.

More later...but right now I don't want to say too much.

I'm doing better though.

welding shut the escape hatch.

So...I need to figure out how to accept joyless agony.

It appears that joyless agony is the state of my life sometimes, that my chemistry or my evil memories take me there.  So I need to stop trying to escape it and just be peaceful with it, just bear up under the pain.

Take measured steps to shift it, be kind to myself, avoid beating up on myself...but give up entirely the idea of suicide and accept that I choose not to escape the hell.  That the hell happens. That I accept this hell and live not for my own sake but for the sake of others who love me, and whom I need to do a good job of loving...since that is what I am here to do.

To live and love the people I live for, and accept that I will hurt horribly sometimes, because I just do. That death would come as a relief. But that I reject taking my own life, and therefore must find a way to bear my pain and to love through it properly. 

I feel so odd thinking that I need to live for other people.  I guess at bottom I am selfish...and I'm asking myself to give that up, to face an absolutely awful pain, over and over and over...

And it's for those that love me, and not for myself, because I know that my life does not seem to be worth this devastating pain I have to cycle through. 

I guess I have to do this. I am afraid, I feel so unable to go soldiering on in this overwhelming wreck of an existence.
I know I am not worth this struggle.
You know who you are to whom I say this: I love you.

grass fires

On my way to work I put one out before it really took off.
It had just started. Everything is tinder dry here.
Inside though...I am beginning to feel...healed together more. I'm just very sad...my despair is going away.

I want to thank my friend Squirrel and his achy wrist for this...he held on and would not let go of me...and my beloved E for putting up with me...

I find myself in the odd position of waiting for things to get worse and being surprised when they get better instead.

I'm not going to hold my breath, but...maybe, just maybe, I'll be fixed for a while.

I still cry everyday...when I think about how much I loved my dad, and how little he cared about a love so incredible, and boundless, and open...I worshiped him.
And he raped me, he used me. He took something immeasurably precious and smashed it forever...
I will never love so much again, not without fear mixed with it a bit.

So now I get to clean up all the stuff that went to hell while I was going insane with grief and pain over this stuff...tidy and prepare for the next onslaught...that's the way my life goes...I know the drill by now, there's always more feces inbound to the fan.