My stomach hurts as it seems wont to do over the past month or so. Anxiety and despair eats at me like tiny little sharp-toothed pixies determined to take me apart one pore at a time. I am overwhelmed much like I was 15 years ago when I was divorced. Then I had parents to fall back on, a support system. Now, with mother gone...I feel alone - even with the brothers and sisters. Though they love me unconditionally, they will never love me like my mom and dad did each of us.
This weekend, we opened old wallets and found old pictures. Pictures of when they were young and foolish and in love. Pictures of times long forgotten in the raising of children, poverty and illnesses. It's the condition of most people. We stand at the brink of tomorrow never dreaming of the horrors tomorrow can bring. We are bullet-proof and golden. At the end does it really come down to being broken and clay-footed?
I've lived my life on the premise of a fairytale. "I deserve more. I will get more. I will be loved." But quite possibly, this could be all I get. I realize that. I realize that mostly the fairytale is the stuff that gives up strength to survive day by day without becoming too hopeless and depressed. Too often expectations are our downfall. Expectations that do not change with time and circumstances. It is so difficult to love without expectations.
Standing at the edge and looking down...it looks murky and deep and soul sucking. But life pushes forward no matter what. The lady or the tiger (or would that be the man or the tiger?)....both can destroy you.