It's Sunday...Just bleed out, Grace

It’s funny…because no one ‘gets it’. And the coping techniques that are ‘offered’… well, they’re like putting a band-aid over a wound that needs a tourniquet!

“the little girl is suffering a loss and grief that she will need your permission, patience and love to help her with.” That’s what DT says.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4~ that’s what the bible says.

I need to “grieve” and “mourn” that which I never had? That’s what Grace asks.

Really? Is this mourning? Is this what mourning feels like? A hole in the middle of your gut that gets wider and wider each time you try to plug it up? The bleeding that continues no matter how much pressure you apply? Is mourning talking about what happened to you?

What comes next, after the mourning period? Is it “closure”? And what does that mean, exactly, ‘closure’? Is closure when you’re supposed to realize that all this is just something you should ‘get over’? Like losing ½ your money in the stock market, or staining a favorite white shirt?

Is this the period of time where I pretend it’s *business as usual*? Or is this the time I should “pour out my grief” and “release my anger” and “face my emptiness”…and then feel comforted because you *care*? Or maybe this is the time where I call upon the aid of my friends and family for support, a shoulder to cry on – someone to walk along side me down this road of pain and anguish. Sit with me while I *grieve* the fact that I will never have a childhood, and that deep down at the very core of my being, I will always have a feeling of emptiness ~ and yet I should rest easy because I shall be comforted…and somehow find peace with that? I don’t understand why I can’t do that! Why I instead I feel myself dissolving.

I sit in your office, my eyes filled with tears, and as I reach for another tissue I actually pretend that you really care. Maybe in some strange way that makes me feel better – that somehow – to think you actually understand how hopeless it all feels so much of the time.

You know, when you grow up unloved and unwanted ~ abused ~ you become almost super human. You develop this ability to disappear even when it looks like you’re still there, present, in your body. You can scream but nobody hears a sound escaping from your mouth. You are invisible and you can fly far away from your body. You are the thing who was born normal…but that was so long ago you don’t even remember what it was like. You don’t remember, you only remember “this”.

The band-aid doesn’t work, DT, the blood is continues to seep through and I continue to bleed and to grow weaker each moment. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter on Sundays…just bleed out, Grace. You know the rules.

Just bleed out.