EXCUSE ME WHILE I TRY TO GET BACK INTO THIS...


I am having a hard time writing lately. I think there have been lots of things going on that have busied my brain and I have not had time to get bored in the head and feel that urge to purge, so to speak. It has been a draining and emotionally taxing time for me in this month of April.

Oh, by the way, I decided I hate the month of April. Too much of a tease for me. One day it is beautiful, the next, it is snowing. F-you, April! Just give me a straight answer, will ya?

Anyway, my month went from very stressed out study mode (in order to pass an exam required for work), to taking the hardest test I have taken in a LONG time, and moved on to getting the wonderful Easter gift of a diagnosis of a terminal disease for my father. From there, it was the stress of finding out more and more about his prognosis, it was the rush to book the cheapest, quickest flight I could to my hometown that I have not seen in over 4 years, and it was the realization of my own mortality somehow through the process.

Then it was the actual plane trip to my hometown, wondering what would be in store. The arriving and seeing familiar faces from my long ago past. The sleeping in the childhood bedroom with my sisters, whispering into the night about death and love and family. The weirdness of the town...or was it the weirdness of me? The hospital room 10 hours a day, the strangers coming to visit, the final words of my father as I left the hospital room for the last time..."I love you," words he has never uttered in my presence for as long as I have lived.

Then it was the stress of freaking out about a private health scare of my own, the relief of realizing my health scare was going to be fine, and the guilty feelings resulting from my preoccupation with my own problems while my father lay in a hospital bed. Following this was a calming of my mind at last, as my father gets a little more spirit each day, as I get more comfortable with the idea of his inevitable passing.

And I am left gazing at my own life, trying to improve my own health...stopping habits I love so much that slowly kill my already suseptable insides, and trying not to beat myself up about it when I give in to the temptation to be bad to my body.
And there is the secret fear of my own self, the worry that somewhere inside I am already beginning to die. That giving up these habits is meaningless because I am already ruined and dying inside. And my life is so insignificant, and ALL life is so insignificant, so much so that I feel so small...smaller than a grain of sand in this very strange world we all have the privellage of being a part of.

And now my mind rests for a moment. And this moment is peaceful. And in it, everything makes sense and I am calm.

Ok maybe I do have some things to purge.