Grief, Loss, Triggers and Other Stuff

I wrote this post with tears behind my eyes. Although they were wide open I squeezed them tight so that no one can see and nothing leaks out that would give away my feelings. Yes, I am hiding, but also writing. A frenzy of emotional free writing.

I am angry! I am sad! I am frustrated and …

My stomach is in knots, my muscles are tense. I feel the passion surging inside of me and I am afraid of it spilling out into a fit of rage. While my mind spins with questions that have no answers, for I long ago learned there are none. 

My Destiny

Triggers come in all sorts of ways. A voice, a song, a memory, a word. 

Maybe it’s just me as I read posts on social media encouraging others to ‘copy and paste’ in honor or remembrance of something or someone. Especially in honor of someone who is battling or has lost a battle with cancer with the hashtag #cancersucks or something.

This is my story, my reality and my life.

I lost someone to cancer many years ago and yes cancer sucks. Not a day goes by that something doesn’t remind me of her. When she died, she left a hole in my heart. I watched the traditional treatments wreck and devastate her body, mind and spirit. And in the end, it did nothing to prolong her life nor improve the quality of her life. 

So, yes, I am jaded.

1487543278089

My experience may be vastly different from others. Yet, this is my story, not theirs and this is my voice that is screaming in the silence of unanswered questions. Nighttime skies as dark as death where stars twinkle on unconcerned and the cold vastness reveals no measure of comfort to assuage my pain and longing.

Posting in honor of someone, does nothing. Really, that’s the best you can do?

Be careful with your words, your images, your pictures and posts you share. Everyone experiences things differently. Triggers! No two people experience life in exactly the same way. There is no comfort in false words of hope and solace. We toss around platitudes like confetti in the wind, left to fall and be carried where they will. With no thought of those on the receiving end, intentional or not, will catch the true meaning of our hearts.

Yes, I am bitter. Yes, I am … hell I don’t know what I am.

I do know that I am strong and this will not defeat me. I will bang a drum for those we have lost and never assume to understand someone else’s experience and pain. For I never would expect the two to be the same. #JustBelieve #HopeLives

Bull$√!+

Advertisements

Compassion is a Verb

I encourage everyone to visit the site Cards of Hope and see how you can help to bring inspiration and happiness to people battling CANCER.  Her mission touches me on a very personal level because of my own experiences (you can read about that on my about page if interested).Lacie created the site to bring inspiration and happiness to people battling CANCER.  Cards of Hope was founded because of her experience staying with a friend, Pennie, who had terminal cancer. She was always looking for some glimmer of hope or joy in every day that she was alive. To quote Lacie, “Battling CANCER is a horrendous thing to have to go through, and I feel that if I can do anything to brighten a Cancer warrior’s day then I will do it.”

Cards of Hope functions on a purely donation basis.  The following list is only a few of the many items needed that can help brighten a warrior’s day.

*envelopes
*cards
*stamps (They Always Need Stamps!)
*stickers
*paper

*gift cards
*coloring pages
*post cards
*bookmarks
*books
*crayons
*cross word puzzle books
*new stuffed animals
*construction paper

You can view more items that are needed hereYou can also send money orders or checks for a donation.  Remember compassion, kindness and love are verbs.  They require action and you may actually experience the greater blessing by your giving.

In addition be sure to join the 1000 Voices for Compassion movement to flood social media with compassion on February 20, 2015. #1000Speak Together we can make a difference!

Something Completely Different!

He quickly dried himself and tossed the towel aside. Wrapping the soft white bath robe around his waist he tied the belt around his waist making a knot in the front. He then exited the building into the warm afternoon sun. It seemed to be a normal spring day with the sun shining amongst billowy clouds floating across the canvas of a cerulean sky. He quickly spotted her standing a short distance away with her back to him. She was wearing a similar white bath robe and her long brown hair hung down over her shoulders. She appeared to be having a conversation with a man who he did not know seated in front of her in a lawn chair. The distance between her and the man appeared to be about two yards and he seemed to be listening intently.

He began to walk towards her and this stranger, covering the distance quickly as his instincts raised the hairs on the back of his neck. The area was the grounds of a campus of some sort with people milling about amidst numerous large brick buildings. As he drew closer in his approach to the two figures he heard her voice. She seemed to be replying in response to a question from the strange man. Others passed by ignoring them both.

Coming from behind she was unaware of his approach and his nearness allowed him to hear her say the word ‘cancer.’ At that moment her hands quickly untied the knot at her waist holding her bath robe closed. Grabbing both front seams she tore open the robe her arms outstretched to her sides.  Shocked, he quickly covered the last few yards to where she was standing. Without hesitating he placed himself squarely between her and this man sitting there with an almost deliriously evil grin on his face. He was able to block the man’s view of her with his body. As he had moved to intersect the sight line between the two he was even more surprised to catch sight of bare skin and the swell of a breast. The realization that she was completely naked beneath the bath robe and had exposed herself to this strange man sent his mind into a free fall.

Catching his breath he quickly grabbed the edges of her robe and pulled them together to cover her nakedness. She did not resist and others passing by seemed not to notice. He then grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her away from the stranger. They began walking away as he guided her with his arm around her shoulders. As they walked, his legs felt as if he had just ran a marathon and only kept moving on instinct. His mind was reeling, his heart beating loudly in his chest. Minutes pass as they walk in silence before he is able to speak.

“What are you doing?” he asks incredulously trying to hide the anger and dismay. Her response is short and clipped with very little emotion, “You do not understand.”

“I do not understand?” he questions her.

“No, you do not,” she states simply.

She pauses before calmly adding, “I am the one dying.”

~Mark Schutter ©2014

Dying 2014(This story came to me in a dream, I have written it down here verbatim from what I recalled the next morning upon waking.  I have tried to add no extra details and if I have it is unintentional.  The mind has dreams of its own, of which in the light of day the reasons behind the dreams are chased away with the rising of the sun. ~M)