I am only human. I know I write all the time about staying positive and that is the purpose of this blog but I have to admit that I am only human. I become frustrated. I want this all to end. Just when I think I am doing somewhat better it seems all the sudden there it is again the big whammy, and I am back down. My human side gets so frustrated. I seriously hate living like this. Today I had to sweep the floor. Simple, right? Well for me like running five miles, as you already know since I have written it many times before. When I got done I was so weak I had to plop on the couch, literally plop. I sat there so weak that without even noticing it tears were rolling down my face. It is so unexplainable. I sit here now tired, weak and with tears as I type this. Lonely, scared, alone and just plain sad. Which if you know me, is not me at all. As I was resting from the sweeping I grabbed a pen and a pad of paper. I thought to myself I am going to write some sappy poem, words or story about all this so here is what I wrote. Warning: It may sound like a mixed up match of garble but at the time it is what came to my mind. It helps me so to write.
I woke again this morn with many things on my mind.
As I rose to do them my body made me think twice,
not in a lazy day way but in a I'm in control kind of way.
My mind is very weary as I sit and ponder.
I begin to think of days gone by as my mind begins to wonder.
The days of doing it all have turned into sadness,
As for some reason I have a hard time trying to recall.
I tried to sweep but became so weak that all I did was weep.
I sat down to pull myself back together.
To realize I AM much stronger than I think I am,
even if I don't want to believe it at this moment in time.
As I want to give up,
the love that surrounds me picks me back up.
I can do this even if it is little bits at a time.
I'm sad for all I lost,
but glad for all I have gained.
What really matters.
This is not all in vain.
It must all have a reason,
although many times I have a hard time understanding.
If this small life,
a sorry existence is only to help others who struggle,
then it is all worth it somehow.
So I pick myself up and press on.
If it were not suppose to be I would be gone.
God must have kept me here for a reason,
so the, my, story continues...
I'll keep you posted on the next installment.