Black rose #30

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Well thinking about it --for I wrote this a few days ago, and took it off, but seeing I wrote it--thus it should have its abode her, good or bad.We change daily, so fair is fair, so here it is.

A bit morbid when one speaks of a black rose, but then don`t the Chinese mourn in white? I was awakened a few hours ago around midnight by the phone--never did anything like this happen to me, I just couldn`t remember anything-my mind was a blank. This must be when one hasn`t  completely lost their mind but getting there for sure. It was the vet. He asked me about the day--I just coudn`t remember. I told him to hold on a minute, I had to compose myself, try to gather my thoughts a bit but I coudn`t-- even after that my mind was a total blank, like everything was erased. Must be all this tremendous stress and pre-occupation with death , and the dead.

I just feel I am being pulled into a million different pieces and I just cannot handle it at all. I am so very tired, so spent, so miserable and above all so very depressed. I don`t think all this mystical reading is doing me much good, in fact makes me go deeper into the depths and I feel I can`t breathe and I am  slowly being asphyxiated, I just want to escape to a safe quiet place. But there isn`t one--no where.  I just feel so miserably alone  and forgotten.

Mourning. I suppose, that is really what I feel. Like in the Victorian days  being in black for days, months, even years--when even their jewellery was representative of death on those occasions. The thing is that I don`t have a real reason for feeling this way, but I do. I have no idea what I am mourning. My lost life perhaps, my "could haves, should haves, would haves" of yesterday.Tears don`t help when there is no one to wipe them away--they cleanse not the soul neither the heart. One just keeps struggling like a beached fish  on the shore wanting to get back into the water to where it was joyful, the way things used to be.The safe, the happy and the serene....ah solitude, the thought so all encompassing.

I really thought I had gone mad when I was suddenly awakened from sleep--nothing like this has ever happened, nothing like I have ever experienced before. I am so scared, frightened at this moment of what I have become, of what this all is leading to--maybe I am actually driving myself mad. Maybe to the end, well all has to eventually. That thought is so frightening, yet we all have to get there, get through it. Then what? I feel no comfort from anything, especially now that I haven`t heard from you in days. Where are you? I haven`t prayed in a few days, though I did light a candle, but I find no refuge in the thought, neither in God.

I am filled with dread, agitation and this internal trembling. I feel detached from myself in a weird sort of way, disassociated. It is not like being drunk, but spaced out, my mind being elsewhere. I can`t watch TV--it dosn`t interest me, neither does music nor anything else. Thought I have to go around with a happy face, and be a rock to all who need me. I have no idea how I shall get through all those patients tomorrow when I am a total wreck myself psychologically and all else.

I just feel I want to sit into my car and drive forever never to return. Just drive into oblivion never having to think ever again. I think it was that bus that did me in with all the stress of it and this past two weeks of total "hell" of Dante. The sad part is, I can`t tell anyone, can`t show my feelings or discuss all that is eating away at me. I am one a huge mess of a disaster. And so  utterly alone.

No more cards, letters, thoughts  for a while.  No more anything-I am so need of some assurance of some kind, of safety and consolation that things will be alright, yet I feel none--utter loneliness.  Alright? But what? I ask myself.  Tonight is the very worse night in my entire life. The desolation , the pain in my heart, the feeling worthlessness is just unbearable. I feel you are gone for some reason. I can never figure you out, I thought I did. Then times like this I hardly know you. You-"the enigma".

I think perhaps this has been the culmination of everything, and is also the reason why I have been writing so much, not that I have said much at all. Yet,  I feel the need to say much, but can`t seem to express myself or find the words at all. It is like I have lost myself entirely- mind, body spirit and voice--no words at all, they seem lost to me.

Maybe this night  is some sort of purging of spirit from God, from all this incessant thinking, obsessing and wondering about life--about existence, mostly God. And you. No--definitely reading all this Merton is not helpful, it sucking me into the abyss even more deep than I could ever imagine, as it brings questions to my mind that I don`t want to ask, or hear the answers to--it is not at all helpful for my internal life, the health of my soul.  One would think communion with God would give some rest to the soul, but it is not. Use to.  Contemplation brings more to the surface and one realises the futility of all and the madness. The senselessness. I always thought love was the answer--makes one complete within God as well as without. That love creates a tighter bond, a clearer perspective, of understanding, of unity with the universe. But tonight I just feel the opposite, though I love you-- as I  also love God from the very core of my being, with every cell in my body. Yet.....

All this endless doubt that is tearing at me up. This uncertainty, this endless nagging of spirit. This deafening noise in my head that won`t stop chattering, won`t stop telling me stuff  which I don`t want to hear. I just want to escape it all, this never ending misery. I want this night to end, yet I want it to continue till eternity--I don`t want to see the next sunrise, yet it will emerge in all its glory in over an hour. I don`t want to face an other day. Life is so bloody hard. I have no idea why I signed up. Just struggling, wondering, self reflection -yet understanding absolutely nothing about myself because I have so much self doubt as what God actually wants or desires of me--if at all anything at all.