Shattered Worlds

Life is too short

and so very tragic

how is it our worlds can be shattered so many times?

and we have to keep picking up the pieces. Keep going...

my cousins

Oh, my beautiful cousins

only two on my mom's side

...but now we are down to one...

And my cousin, his sister,

I know how her heart breaks 

only she has no other siblings to help her pick up her pieces and survive

and no mom either

her mom is the one who died falling from the sky when my one remaining cousin was one. 

How our worlds can be shattered.

we all go through it

but some more than others. 

....my head hurt before, 

it really hurts now

But my heart is strong now for the survivors

Life is too short...

Please God, love my cousin and help him to find his mom and his cousin (my own brother) in heaven or wherever they hide. 

Please God, help and watch over our sweet beautiful cousin whose heart is broken and breaking and feels so very left alone...

Words

they only fall short

...yet silence can be so much worse...

a different person.

Twice today I am told, "you are a different person" in a good way. I am hearing this a lot lately.
I am.
And I am not.
I am happy to hear this and I am happy I can talk about things without the flood of tears that had been accompanying way too frequently.
I am glad that I feel so much more level and rational on a more consistent basis.
I am happy about it and motivated.
I come home and take care of some things I have been needing to get more consistent about. I edit an essay and offer revisions. I find myself looking at the process of applying to a graduate program.
I find it a bit hard to focus on reading things like what I need to read to figure that kind of stuff out.
Maybe it is just because I am out of practice.
So I keep going knowing it will get easier.
It does.
But really it does not.
My head starts to feel swimmy and it all starts to feel like a giant load of ... fake
Games
foolishness.
Maybe because I am trying to read about the professors of psychology and their interests of studies and how to get into a PhD program with them.
It is silliness and ego
and maybe I am too jaded for this field now.
But the real problem is that this intense focus is making my head hurt and feel swimmy. So I stop. I am shaky. Very shaky.
I am sensing frustration from my husband. Our kids need to help out more.
I try to get them going with helping to take care of stuff. My son pushes back, for no good reason, probably just because he is a kid and that is what they so often do...
But I explode. I am yelling at him.
... Now my husband is even more annoyed and my head is swimmy and my ears are ringing and so shaky and I don't understand why. I begin to cry because I can't keep up, because I want so badly to do these curricular things but I don't know if I am actually physically capable.
I am a different person but my cognitive stamina is not... It is still too low for me.
And the yelling and crying is just further evidence of that.
I will try to get more sleep, eat less sugar and adjust a few things in hopes that tomorrow it will be better... But it is hard to accept and I don't want to.
It is especially hard because I don't have my "head injury expert" team to help me figure this out...
"there is something pathological to that" says Dr. Concussion the last time I saw her.
"pathological? explain," I ask. She does and to it I say, "Thank you for recognizing that."
But she still would not see or help me. She tells me she will help me find a new team. But then her response two weeks later when I followed up was she could not find one with the qualifications I need so I should just go through my insurance and have the wrist doctor refer to the neurologist. My insurance and others say go to them but the problem is they will not see me because of my "previous undisclosed" pathology that I was trying to show them and explain the whole time.
...
They refuse to see me and treat me but they continue to bill.
How on earth can this be ethical and okay?
It's not.
but I have no voice and no rights and no protection.
And that is why I will keep talking.
I'm tired.
but strangely hopeful again
as I have written it out to speak out.

Why do our hearts betray us?

There other day, at physical therapy, I talked with a beautiful lady whose fun, short, wavy, perfect hair I was coveting. She told me she hacked it because she is going through a divorce and in her bright blue eyes that can't hide her pain I saw pieces of me.
Hacking hair as a way to severe -almost literally- the attachments to boys who did not value. That was a pattern of my past that I did not really think was a pattern until I saw a mirror of me in this lovely lady.
That was something interesting, but the thing I saw in her that stirred me the most was her pain as she spoke of her exes. This lady loves and loves deeply. She is beautiful, lively and fun. But she is also in deep heart-wrenching pain. I know the pain. I can see it in her and I know it but I cannot feel it right now. I cannot allow myself to feel it again. I will not. I cannot take her pain and I know this, so I don't try to.
Instead I want her to feel the love I think she deserves to feel but I can't give that either because it is not my place and I am not the person for the job anyway.
Heartbreaking.
And I am struck with confounding wonder about our hearts that are so treacherous at times.
How is it we can love and be hurt so deeply?
How is it our human hearts can love so deeply and completely somebody who does not return it?
We are told to trust our heart but I am beginning to wonder if this is very smart, as treacherous as they can be.
They betray us.
Why?
This is so confusing to me.
Like the way that it felt like a dagger puncturing and twisting so many times over so many months.
How do we survive?
Our bodies are so strong and resilient
and yet I am positive these breaks take there toll.
I hope this beautiful lady finds a love that will last and bring joy that is equal or better than the pain she is feeling right now. ..and yet if she does, eventually one will be lost at very least to the process of mortality and then a heart will be deeply wounded again. Which is probably the real reason no one lives forever in these mortal frames.
May our hearts be settled in forever and until then I pray they may bare the burdens of breaking, time and again.
And I pray we will be kind to each other.