My Lady of the Lantern

This bush that I am in. It is feral.  I have moments of absolute clarity, though the moods change often, and that changes the thought process. I feel prepared and capable of dealing with everything. Then, I just feel inadequate, ugly, incapable, insufficient, under-prepared and awful. I feel like a blob.  I am running my second periods of the year, and they have just begun. I feel like a leech, and yet there is secret glee I feel in driving home the point of how wrong things are. I let him know everytime I change my pad. He must know.  I despise myself more than I despise her and I despise him more than I despise her.  "Will things never be okay again?" I don't say but my mind chuckles at how quickly he wants normalcy to return.  

~~TMI Alert~~ - Figlia slept the Friday night tightly hugging a new bar of soap she wanted to take bath with today morning. She was happy to know that we did not steal it.  - M had a speed vomit session beginning close to midnight yesterday. Actually, it looked like he was in discomfort (though not crying) and turning out the lights we found him sitting surrounded in pools of vomit. By the time he re-slept, it was already 2:15 am. There were four rounds of vomits in total, and getting him to sleep involved an anti-emetic,  anti-pyretic and a medicine to help him sleep. DH's shoulders were aching from carrying him around.  - I had a 'consultation' - the stars, celestial bodies and works kind. The guy got it right on the nature of the crisis, pointed out the duration and inception of the current crisis, and some interesting insights on the kind of dreams I have. Nice, right?  I don't know what is more satisfying - whether to know what is ahead, or ...

I know I will come around to writing this, about this. And then I feel like I dont want to write. I want to share, but not write.  You know there are these intense movies where the protagonists always know what questions to ask, and that they always ask the most pertinent questions at the right spots. You know there are times when a person leaves, and then comes back saying that he/she felt like it, and the other person is in grave trouble and rescued by the return of the person who said that they were gone. I have been told that I had become distant in the past couple of years, That I chose to swim in and out of being connected or bothered with my relationship with the other adult in the house.  I still don't feel like I have actually digested the passing away of L. I can hardly tell you what I am doing right now.  I am reacting. I get angry at the children. I hate myself. I hate my body with some new found vengeance. Going to the gym helps getting out t...

M recently had an allergy that quickly spread to most of his face, torso, and his hands in the form of rashes. The initial lotion prescribed to him, to soothe the irritated skin had quite the opposite effect. It's almost a week since the first time we noticed the marks on his skin. There is an ongoing whinefest in the house since then. He is unwell, with his red skin that is itchy, a nose that gets congested during the night, colic, and irregular eating.  Figlia has not been at her best behaviour. Gracy took an extra day off.  M had an eye infection, and he is not fully recovered from the skin thing. He has been sleeping badly at night. and is very clingy.  (No, it is not meas.les) 

To whoever would listen, I like to tell that M has been a very expensive baby for me. For different reasons, every baby I gave birth to bit a chunk off my heart.

I am running my first periods of this year.  They came early, so I did not spend the two days prior to my periods when I am anxious about their arrival.   I started my gym membership in first week of January, and I have been mostly consistent with my attendance. I am not doing spectacular, but currently my focus is to make it a habit. I have been in a bad place mentally and emotionally, and I am still struggling.  However, my finest art is not falling apart at my worst . So, I am not taking any decisions in haste. Right around the time of what would have been L's birthday, DH and I disappeared for a very short trip. We left kids with Gracy and the grandparents, and the truth be told, that trip could not have happened at a better time, because I was just breaking inside.  Have you heard that statement, "Truth is stranger than fiction"? I can bet on it now. Except the flame is burning in my home. 

I stand in a hallway, see doors every where. I don't want to be in the hallway, but it is not an option. The doors go either ways, but no matter what door I open, my hands will be scorched. I am fuzzy. The question of how I got into the maze is still quarreling with my scheme to get out, and my brain is none the straighter. The maze is not interminable, but it ticks in a way I can't lay my hand on. It evolves itself.  The mirrors are not kind here. There is no way to hide those things which one is ashamed of. It is dark, but not dark enough. There is light, but not for illumination.  The children's voices call out. I hear other voices too. I am weary. I cannot think straight. I dont feel good. I feel dragged. I am free to move, but the movement is painful.  I think of Bree's mum's mask. I think of Fatal Attraction.  I think of Plath. ( Image credit: Mask finger painted by Figlia )