i write this here only because i don’t know where else to say it.
i need ~
i don’t know what i need.
i’m overwhelmed with feelings, overwhelmed and overloaded and i can’t seem to shake it off.
i’m having ~ i have flashes of feelings that connect to concentration camps. i know, that sounds ~ crazy, or strange anyhow. But my granddaughter fell and cut her lip last night and it bled and i saw a painting today of people standing together on a platform and somehow that combination ~ it gave me a flash of feeling this afternoon ~
~ i don’t know if i can talk about it. How weird is that?
i only ever have once, talked about it, it’s something that used to happen years ago, but it hardly ever does anymore, but it did today.
i feel that i’m getting on a train and being sent to a concentration camp
The details are not always exactly the same, but there is always a child with me.
A child who is too young to know that terrible things can happen and i can’t protect them from everything.
And there are details, what it’s like being crammed in the train… and knowing that the other people on the train are hoping that this will be the worst of it and it will be better when we get to where we’re going ~
and that is what tortures me somehow, the child who doesn’t know and the people who hope.
It’s the look on a child’s face when something happens that is worse than she knew could happen. The hurt ~ a sense of betrayal, i think. Not just whatever the physical hurt is, but the sudden knowledge that life is THIS too.
Maybe it is a memory from a former life, the train, and maybe it’s just a whiff of emotion i pick up that attaches to that idea. i don’t know. Don’t think it matters.
i used to be better at shaking it, today, i went to the grocery and almost cried when i couldn’t find the organic cereal aisle right away ~ no, really, almost cried ~ and halfway through, i thought, i can’t do this, i just can’t do it.
But i did. You know, i did.
i don’t know ~ i was trying to figure out, on the way home, how i used to shake this off.
Prayer. And cigarettes, i smoked cigarettes back then, and that was always helpful if any feelings were too strong. And alcohol too, i think. Not often, but sometimes, drinking just a bit too much after the kids were in bed, falling asleep without thinking about a thing… and sometimes taking a day and saying i was sick. i’d read and sleep and read and eat chicken noodle soup and not do anything except what i had to do all day.
i don’t really do any of those things anymore. Prayer sometimes, but not in the same ways i used to. Maybe i need to grow that practice… maybe i just need to sit with it. Sit with the feelings.
i don’t know.
Writing it has helped some, so i guess there’s that.