I can't sleep tonight, so I thought I'd revisit my blog.  I started a post back in March-ish but never finished it.  I'll include it with this one.  It'd be great to say I haven't blogged recently because things are terrific, but really they're not.  Family life is the same; holidays and birthdays are bittersweet and painful.  On a positive note, I've started a new treatment for RA.  My pain levels and swelling are significantly decreased.  The doctors I visit are encouraged.  I still have stiffness, limited motion, fatigue, and moderate pain levels, but it's much more manageable now.  I've even been able to start a garden.  So far we have tomatoes, anaheim peppers, cucumbers, green beans, strawberries, basil, thyme, and rosemary.  I've planted dill but haven't seen it pop up yet.  When the weather begins to cool again, we'll add lettuce and spinach somewhere.  Gardening has been surprisingly fun so far.

I've been trying really hard this year to not be negative, focus on the positive, and try laughing at everything, thinking that this would help me to not feel "blue" as often.  After almost three months (6 1/2 months, now) of trying, it seems that rather than helping, I'm just suppressing stuff.  So, I'm ending my blog silence and posting some recently-spewed poetry.  Rough-draft stuff, but I'm hoping that posting it at least gets it off my mind and maybe I'll have a day or two of "happy" next week.

Be sad, cry with me, commiserate, encourage, whatnot.


"Weary"

I'm so tired of not making waves;
Tired of praying for strength to be a good little girl,
Tired of trying to always behave, get good grades.
Tired of asking God to stop his hands,
Asking God to make the games stop.
They're not fun.  Not for me.  They never were.
Tired of restraining my voice - tired of denying it.
I have a voice!
And if it makes you uncomfortable to know,
Uncomfortable that I still see his marks on me
And still hear the sick twist of his tainted tongue asking for a favor -
If it makes you uncomfortable, makes your life awkward
If you don't know what to say to that little girl crying for relief
The little girl who doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what she did wrong;
If you've no better excuse than "I didn't know what to say
And I don't know how to help"
Don't go about your imaginary Brady Bunch life pretending all's in perfect Harmony.
Just sit and cry with me.


"Pill-swallowing"

I don't want to be that weak, scared little girl silently screaming for someone to stop her pain,
tired of praying that "God-give-me-strength" prayer.
Too exhausted to cry, afterwards, once he's had his fun;
longing for numbness.

"Hold my Hand"

If you want to preach forgiveness and understanding,
Want to tell me you sympathize and you know what I need to do
Let's take a walk down my memory lane.
Come whisper my nightly prayer, 'God I'm so sorry.  I know it's wrong; help me say No".
Hold my hand while he removes my clothes and shows me that thing.
Snuggle me in a blanket when he's finished; pray with me "God why didn't you give the strength I needed?"

Visit church camp and cry until you're sick because the counselors don't know what to do, either.
Hold my hand during every gyno visit when I can't stop crying and all I see is him and his flashlight and I'm that scared, naked little girl all over again.
Scream for me when I don't have any will left to fight and I just want to end it all.
Wail for the innocence he stripped away and tossed aside, a pile of so much refuse.

Smile when you see him so no one knows your shame.
Return his hug; no one will suspect your secret.

If you want to preach to me to move on and just let it go,
At least first listen to where I've been.