“I turn to
Call to you
But you
Have fallen under
Just out of reach
I can’t seem to catch my breath
I reach out
To hold you
But you
Keep slipping under
Just out of reach
I can’t seem to catch my breath
At all ”— Juniper Lane, “Catch My Breath“
This song came on my iPod immediately after I had a small panic attack in a ladies’ restroom. Seems fitting, as I was definitely not ready to lose my carefully arranged cookies.
Anyway.
Actually, it’s been a week full of small victories here at Casa de Caterwauling. I guess it is meant to make up for the sheer suckitude of the last month or so. Not biting the hand that feeds, mind you — just letting the universe run its course.
Now, I’m not saying to remove the yellow tape from around my heart and life — it’s still a disaster area, by all means. But maybe the key to getting past this period of my life is simply to go around instead of powering through.
I was looking forward to powering through. But I’ve been weakened. One could argue “what else do I have to lose” and another part of me says well, I’m lying bruised and bloodied and clearly in need of something resembling help. And if the carcass is just so very obviously being left there to rot, then that tells me more than a “yes” or “no” ever could.
So anyway, am trying to squeeze out the bitter so I can truly celebrate what is good and easy and right. Because there is some of that and I want to let the universe know how much I appreciate it and that I’m definitely leaving the door open for more of that.
Man, I am so sick of these fucked-up, cryptic-ass blog entries. I should put up my journal on eBay and start taking bids. One wonders who would be the lucky bidder on THAT treasure trove of goddess-ness and, more importantly, how much money they’d think it was worth. …
*starting to breathe a little more normally again*