Medicated...and Letting Go...

Listening to strong, self-reliant women, disconnected from the emotion of the past few weeks thanks to some mind-numbing anti-depressants. Seems like just another easy way out, but if it's what medical professionals suggest, I guess I'll trust them. For now, anyway. Life has been more of a battle lately than it should and the other areas of my life need attention. Patty Griffin sings my truth:

Ain't no talkin' to this man
Ain't no pretty other side
Ain't no way to understand the stupid words of pride
It would take an acrobat, and I already tried all that so
I'm gonna let him fly
Things can move at such a pace
The second hand just waved goodbye
You know the light has left his face
But you can't recall just where or why
So there was really nothing to it
I just went and cut right through it
I said I'm gonna let him fly

There's no mercy in a live wire
No rest at all in freedom
Of the choices we are given, it's no choice at all
The proof is in the fire
You touch before it moves away
But you must always know how long to stay and when to go

And there ain't no talkin to this man
He's been tryin' to tell me so
It took a while to understand the beauty of just letting go
Cause it would take an acrobat, I already tried all that
I'm gonna let him fly
I'm gonna let him fly
I'm gonna let him fly

Taking a Day

I woke up this morning and called in sick. Should have done that long ago.

I keep trying to move beyond heartache, listening to bitter songs like Elliott Smith's "Just Somebody I Used to Know," but I can't convince myself that I don't still love or need him.

My therapist is absolutely correct when she says this feels like amputation.

She asked me if I felt any resentment and I had to say, "No, I wish I did. I only feel loss. I just miss him."

And the tears flowed.

And she was right when she said, "Your heart is still broken."