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Help
I exist, though my presence feels seldom acknowledged. Fighting replays of tunes to woe is me, my own Ted Talk; that unconscious internal victims speech. At the same time I am holding a safe space in case I ever allow my heart to give myself grace.
Odd as it is true, I have been told people can easily get lost in my eyes, I don't even see them looking.. does this mean I have finally gone blind? I only see the bad, the ugly, the sad, and the future moments in which time has yet to have.
In the past I had typically nurtured feelings of loneliness, until real life taps me to come back. Detachment is how I have managed to survive. However in becoming an expert with that skill, I have unlearned the action of feeling good or even alive.
No matter how hard I try the shoe always falls off when life is feeling too high. I get a taste but never a full lasting fill of what this living is actually like. I am always holding my breath, crawling backwards up an endless hill surrounded by all the normal stuff regular people are so easily able to process and deal with. Still trying to figure out all the pieces I have to collect, to build a new shelf for my old program to sit and dwell.
It occurred to me in a moment some days ago, I don't have to run a play from a coach who never played pro. I really just need to sit on the bench until I am called to get up and act. I noticed I have a tendency to want to be all ten players, the coach, and the bat. Recognizing the things I cannot change using my GPS to try to find the courage to change what I can and tapping into the existing wisdom to know the difference between the two.
I was foolish to believe I got it under control when I am a tiny piece in God’s game of life, as a whole. I still have moments where I find it challenging to surrender my control. I want so badly to just do it all myself, but I have to remember to remember it is ok to ask for help.
Copyright ©
Sierra Mazzucca
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