The history of Prosperous Snow written for the group Reminiscences
Part 1 of
Taking a Walk Within
There is something out of whack in my life. I feel as if something is not quite right, but I don't know what it is. I feel uncomfortable. I am on the verge of tears, but I don't know why I want to cry. It's been this way for a while now. I've felt this way for several days. I'm tired of over-thinking and worrying when I should be taking action to solve my problems. I think the problem is spiritual. I need to get back to a regular schedule of prayer; all though I don't feel that schedule is the right word in this context. This entry will be a free write attempting to answer some questions. This is just the first step to answer these questions because I need to meditate on them, but right now I can't meditate on anything because the neighbor's music is echoing throw the walls and it's distracting. Another distraction is the cars driving east or west on Sunrise Avenue (which is a one way street and they should be driving only east) honking their horns at people, other cars, or animals.
What do I want? I want to be independent of all except God, but I don't feel independent of anyone. I need help to pay my bills, purchase food, and buy necessities. I don't feel healthy because I have difficulty walking. My knee hurts and it goes out of joint. The weird thing about this is that it's my left knee. My right knee which is the one that was first diagnosed with osteoarthritis doesn't go out of joint.
What do I want? I want to be independent of all save God. I want to feel healthy and able to walk from my apartment to my car without worrying about falling. I want to have someone to talk to, but I live alone. I want to pay my bills without having to get help from family, friends, or anyone else. I want to feel as if I'm a success at something. I want to stop crying. I don't cry physically, but I cry mentally.
I'm tired of being depressed. I'm tired of being afraid. I don't view myself as independent of all save God. I don't view myself as brave. I look at the past and see all my failures rather then the successes. Sometimes I wonder if I ever had any successes. Sometimes I wonder if anyone loves or even likes me, but the problem is that I don't love or like myself. This is a problem I've had all my life and it doesn't seem to be getting any better.
I wish I knew what I was doing wrong. I must be doing something wrong because if I were doing anything right I wouldn't feel this way. I want to cry and I'm repeating myself. I'm afraid! I'm afraid of being alone. I'm afraid of what will happen when I can't pay my bills. I'm afraid of almost anything and it's been that way all my life. My problem is not... What is my problem anyway? At this moment is thinking about what I'm writing instead of simply writing without thinking. The only way I can come to any conclusion is to write without thinking what I write because that is the only way I can get past my defenses.
I suspect, I know that most of my issues date back to two events in my life. The first was when my parents divorced and the second was the sexual abuse I received at the hands of J.S. How do I deal with these two events? Do I write fiction stories about them? Do I write personal essays? Do I use them as inspiration for poems? How do I deal with these events?
I have always missed my father. Ever since he and Mom divorced I've missed him. I want to know why he left me. I know that he was an alcoholic. I know that he didn't leave intentionally, but how do I convince my inner child of this. There is still a little child inside me that wants to cry on my Daddy's should, but he hasn't been around for me to do that. I want to know if Daddy loved me. I don't remember him saying he loved me, but then I was so young when he and Mom divorced that I may not have remembered it. It could also be that it wasn't the custom in his family for a father to tell his children that. Maybe he thought that she show his love through going to work during the week or taking us to church on Sunday.
Writing this has made me feel better about Daddy because I know he loved me. I know he didn't leave me on purpose, but it was the addiction that caused him to leave. Maybe I can use this in a story. I hope I can write it before I die. I am afraid that I will die before I accomplish whatever I'm supposed to accomplish. I know I'm supposed to accomplish something because I'm alive today. There were a couple of times in the past that I could have died, but didn't. That means that I must be intended to accomplish something. God has a reason for letting me live. God wants me to do something besides cry because I'm depressed.