Blue... but thats it.
Fall is usually my "blue" season.
I'm not depressed, and when I feel I am getting a bit darker than "blue" I wrangle myself into remembering a time back on Gardner Ave.
I dont want to be that person ever ever again.
I do beleive I was "depressed" that time.
I was standing at my sink before Jack, before Andy, after Tim.
Gray zone.
I would call Tim hundreds of times in a day, let it ring, let the machine get it and just listen......
"It's Tim, I can't get the phone, just leave me a message."
I would just record... nothing. I had said, screamed, cried, begged it all before.
By this time, I was empty. So I would record just ... air.
I would hang up. call again.
again, again. Enough so I would record his entire machine then it wouldnt pick up anymore.
The sink was full of dishes, a broken glass just found its way into the palm of my hand.
I rememebr squeezing it... slowly. It would break my skin and I'd losen my grip a bit. Then squeeze it again real slow.
Why was I doing that. ?
Maybe he would come back if I was hurt...
Maybe He would care..
Maybe he would yell at me to stop.
I dont recall any othe time of that dark..
But I can conjur that sick dark gray feeling and Its almost like a scary movie.
"Stop right there.. dont go there.. You dont belong there.."
How did I get out of there? I dont really know.
But I didnt emerge unscathed.
I still carry fear of losing my grip on this good place.
Why am I bringing this up now? I am not depressed, I am hardly blue. I am actually feeling good. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving... my FAVORITE holiday.
Tim has made his way around into my mind more often lately. My brother in Law Jimmy died 2 weeks ago. I am very very sad about that.
He and Betty were so so generous to us when the kids were little. We had lots of laughs and great times together. I of course am forced back to those days with his sudden passing.
which of course brings me back to the ends of those days which were ugly ugly.
Andy brought me great joy when we met. With almost an equal amount of heartache and change.
My venture out of the gray was motivated by sheer desperation to live long enought to change.
About 2 years before Jack was born I went to New Mexico with the girls. I had every intention of trying to move there with the girls. Rick found a dialysis unit right in town, the girls visited the schools, we looked condos and the adventure was at my fingertips. I think that trip was a catalyst for leaving the gray.
There was a world outside of the phonecalls, the doubt of my value, the "new guy" that was a wildman.
The treasure of the trip came on the way home.
I was so ready to do it. I would have to convince Tim and blah blah blah.
But, My girls, on the trip home.....
I can cry big fat hot tears even now thinking about it.
My girls, as we went from airport to airport to find our way back to bitter cold gray PA.
MY GIRLS talked about
getting home, seeing Nana and Pop, seeing their friends and Honey dog.
Loving the trip on the planes, meeting people on the planes and airports.
Chatting about the good times we had, the sun, the warmth, how much they love their NM family.
BUT, They wanted to get HOME. The HOME I MADE FOR THEM.
Our place that was messy, and dusty, and had Honey hair all over the place.
We were broke, They had everything they needed and were happy. They wanted to go HOME.
I was their HOME.
I am still HOME, except now I am HOME to so many.
The "WILDMAN" needed a home, I am that now and his son that we have together is my anchor to being that HOME.
My broken glass day, gray world was realized and brought back to reality when I realized that I didnt need him to answer the phone and tell me I was going to be alright.
I was going to be alright because I decided I was going to be alright.
How could I not be alright when these beautiful people thought I WAS THEIR SAFE PLACE.
I am not fixed, I am not unbreakable.
I go foggy for a few days here and there. But foggy is ok.
It is not gray. I wont go gray.
I can be "blue" but thats it.
The End.
I'm not depressed, and when I feel I am getting a bit darker than "blue" I wrangle myself into remembering a time back on Gardner Ave.
I dont want to be that person ever ever again.
I do beleive I was "depressed" that time.
I was standing at my sink before Jack, before Andy, after Tim.
Gray zone.
I would call Tim hundreds of times in a day, let it ring, let the machine get it and just listen......
"It's Tim, I can't get the phone, just leave me a message."
I would just record... nothing. I had said, screamed, cried, begged it all before.
By this time, I was empty. So I would record just ... air.
I would hang up. call again.
again, again. Enough so I would record his entire machine then it wouldnt pick up anymore.
The sink was full of dishes, a broken glass just found its way into the palm of my hand.
I rememebr squeezing it... slowly. It would break my skin and I'd losen my grip a bit. Then squeeze it again real slow.
Why was I doing that. ?
Maybe he would come back if I was hurt...
Maybe He would care..
Maybe he would yell at me to stop.
I dont recall any othe time of that dark..
But I can conjur that sick dark gray feeling and Its almost like a scary movie.
"Stop right there.. dont go there.. You dont belong there.."
How did I get out of there? I dont really know.
But I didnt emerge unscathed.
I still carry fear of losing my grip on this good place.
Why am I bringing this up now? I am not depressed, I am hardly blue. I am actually feeling good. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving... my FAVORITE holiday.
Tim has made his way around into my mind more often lately. My brother in Law Jimmy died 2 weeks ago. I am very very sad about that.
He and Betty were so so generous to us when the kids were little. We had lots of laughs and great times together. I of course am forced back to those days with his sudden passing.
which of course brings me back to the ends of those days which were ugly ugly.
Andy brought me great joy when we met. With almost an equal amount of heartache and change.
My venture out of the gray was motivated by sheer desperation to live long enought to change.
About 2 years before Jack was born I went to New Mexico with the girls. I had every intention of trying to move there with the girls. Rick found a dialysis unit right in town, the girls visited the schools, we looked condos and the adventure was at my fingertips. I think that trip was a catalyst for leaving the gray.
There was a world outside of the phonecalls, the doubt of my value, the "new guy" that was a wildman.
The treasure of the trip came on the way home.
I was so ready to do it. I would have to convince Tim and blah blah blah.
But, My girls, on the trip home.....
I can cry big fat hot tears even now thinking about it.
My girls, as we went from airport to airport to find our way back to bitter cold gray PA.
MY GIRLS talked about
getting home, seeing Nana and Pop, seeing their friends and Honey dog.
Loving the trip on the planes, meeting people on the planes and airports.
Chatting about the good times we had, the sun, the warmth, how much they love their NM family.
BUT, They wanted to get HOME. The HOME I MADE FOR THEM.
Our place that was messy, and dusty, and had Honey hair all over the place.
We were broke, They had everything they needed and were happy. They wanted to go HOME.
I was their HOME.
I am still HOME, except now I am HOME to so many.
The "WILDMAN" needed a home, I am that now and his son that we have together is my anchor to being that HOME.
My broken glass day, gray world was realized and brought back to reality when I realized that I didnt need him to answer the phone and tell me I was going to be alright.
I was going to be alright because I decided I was going to be alright.
How could I not be alright when these beautiful people thought I WAS THEIR SAFE PLACE.
I am not fixed, I am not unbreakable.
I go foggy for a few days here and there. But foggy is ok.
It is not gray. I wont go gray.
I can be "blue" but thats it.
The End.
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