SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days

Where I Hide Each Day In My Mind

I know I shouldn't say this, but sometimes I just need to get it off my chest. I wish I could get through a day without someone in my family saying or doing something that I will feel bad about. That's about as simplistic as I can put it.

When I get up some mornings, fear and flight arrive my mind right away. There can be a cringe if I am not alone. Is she downstairs in a good mood, or bad? If she's got her mind made up to do something, will I be coaxed into not wasting another day.

I get that I avoid life; I find distraction. I'm a fairly indulgent person who overdoes something when he finally decides to go after it. I sit in their judgment of my choices. I don't want to deal with this or that, I write, dawdle on the internet. I have designated times I can escape to the gym, usually right after work, or on those wide open days with nothing on my 'planner,' as if that would be utilized.

So, I started the practiced of asking each night before bed, any plans for tomorrow. She's usually reluctant to say, grunts this or that like I should know. I want to know what I'm in for. I think she is already insinuating I shouldn't plan on coasting through another day, in her mind. In my mind, I'm uprooting trees, lifting houses and repaving roads. Everything I do feels like I'm tethered about the neck and pulling a combine with my teeth.

All of these expressions come from the imagination that lays awake most nights, when the brain finally gives up, shuts off, only to begin again with the first eyelid lift. I'll try to bury my head under a pillow, but it's no use. I roll out, come down to the kitchen. That's when I know, is it safe to come out as me, do what I wish, or will it be lend my hand to a dish? Yuck, poor expression, but it rhymed.

I could ramble on in this blog post, like I'm doing, as if I'm clearly relating a point I wanted to make, which was....was...rolls to the top of this entry, rereads. Yes, I feel trapped in my own home as someone who is misunderstood or not tolerated for not having the same approach, values about situation, my situation. And, I'm discovering and learning what it takes to survive in what feels like a war zone.

I get that I'm being dramatic; I'm making the situation worse. I overreact; I overcompensate. The only reason I feel like hiding until it's safe to come out is because I do not feel tolerated anywhere I roam. Maybe, I'm making a game out of it to survive? But, I've heard the woman's discontent. Our children echo feelings, not concerns, about my idiosyncrasies as if I'm an upsetting their lives but not conventionally behaving.

I just realized, I didn't give much evidence. Hmm. I'll have to consider, unless I'm avoid talking about that in blog because it is too 'traumatizing' to relive and retell it all again. When, I just want to find a little brook in my mind, where I can slip my shoes off and dip my feet in a warm, bathing stream. Dream of koi to nibble my toes, as a gentle breeze tousles my unsheltered hair. Where deer and other wildlife come to lick in that bath, nuzzle my ear. Where I can...sorry, got to go. Just say the car rounding the corner. Got to look like I'm doing something, or still asleep. Whatever.

Just another rambling that sort of makes a point, but doesn't strain to create a solid piece of writing to function like a normal topic/dissertation/(word here) for consumptive, illuminating minds to follow the way it should.

I'm not even sure what I just typed. Just got to go.