Monday, February 09, 2009

what is there to say

There is little of interest in my life right now.

Three years have passed along with two positions at two different funeral homes. Now, no job. I'm going to school full time and need to find some part time work to support this habit.

Perhaps the funeral industry is not for me. I am of service to families, great service, I know, but I can not seem to play well with others. Am I at fault for their stupidity? I think not. Am I to blame for their inability to manage well? Again, I think not. However, I am fully responsible for my own inability to shut the hell up and do what I'm told. I don't know why it's so difficult for me.

Two years have passed and I am now re-taking anger management. Actually this time I'm co-leading the class. Does that mean I'm really, really angry?

Three months have passed since the end of my job. I am in a place of utter confusion and chaos. How did I land here again? How much therapy can one soul need?

Five years have passed since I quit the high-tech industry and began my floundering. Is this growth? It seems that my life is paralelling my 17-yr-old daughter's. College next year for her and the beginning of a new phase. At 43, I should not be at a beginning stage. I should know where I am headed. I should be secure in a career. I should not be so lost.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

truths

there are truths about me to powerful to ignore.

I have greater financial worth dead than alive.

I am swimming under a great sea and the surface seems so far from reach.

I am melodramatic beyond belief.

I am capable of self pity on a grander scale than even I imagined.

My legs are tired and I have walked only from the television to the refrigerator to the computer.

Thousands have lost their jobs, and it was beyond their control.

Violins strum so loudly, I can not hear my fingers press the keys. The thought makes me laugh.

I am searching for a way out of this dark.

No longer a journey in a house of death, perhaps the page will become a journey from the death of who I thought I was to the person I am to become.

Tears of frustration and of rage have been my comfort for months. Quiet moments of lethargy. Loud moments of pain. Angry moments of disgust.

I'm tired now.

Tired of being in this place. Ready to move forward but unsure how. Ready to discover what awaits me. New truths. New tapes playing.

I am trusting.

God, who in all his wisdom, must know what I can endure.

I am trusting.

That he will comfort and grow me as maybe I finally learn to lean on him.