I think I'm having an emotional meltdown, it could be the heat that makes my emotions feel ten times more potent than they should be, or it could be that I'm feeling not quite healthy, but the most likley theory is that is was simply inevitable that I would have to come face to face with these emotions eventually. One cannot reach the end of thier natural life, survive it, and not expect to have emotional repercussions. The heart, brain, gut, whatever organ it is that controls emotion, philopsophy, and intuion simply does not funtion that way. I have already dealt with a lot of the emotional repurcusions but it seems that the more I cope the more come out of "my closet" where they apparently can sit dormant on a shelf for many years without you having the slightest clue they are there. Today in particular I am dealing with the feeling that I am not meant to still be alive, that I have somehow messed with the balance of nature by having survived a situation that should have, by all rights, killed me. But more importantly than messing with the delicate nature of balance, I feel as if I have jipped myself out of something more wonderful than I could have fathomed. the afterlife has always been a mystery, and I am sure it is that way for a reason (such as mass suicide if people knew what it were really like) but I feel as if I have had the oprotunity to walk into an exsistance and learning of a higher level, one in which I would embark on a journy that has in store me wonders that the physical mind can not comprehend, and didn't take it. Life is full of once in a lifetime oprotunities but maybe death is too and I've missed one, one that I'll never have again.
Once in a while I feel a longing tug for that missed chance, as if my soul still longs to go there, still hates the body it is in and trys with everything it has to escape. I feel weak then physically, like my body is useless while my spirit is out of schync. I sometimes feel like it would be so easy to let go, to simply stop holding onto it, but for some reason I never do. Maybe it's a deep set fear, or simply that I'm not sure what would happen if I did, but it's mostly a deep conection to those who would be left behind. When I lay at the crossroads wondering if I would simply die if I weren't trying so hard to stay alive, I chose to stay because of my son, and everytime now that I feel weak, like I might again have that choice I stay for the same reason. I have this concieted notion that noone could raise him as well as I could, although I know that eventually he would be a better person for having to deal with the hardships life offers him. and I never want to be a hardship for him, I never want to make his life more difficult than it already is, or will someday be. I guess that is why I stay, because I could not bare to hurt him. and yet I wonder if perhaps I am hurting him by not dieing and completley changing who he will oneday be. but more on this topic later I want to check my email quick
Monday, June 23, 2003