Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Chapter 1 - My Therapy


Occasionally I slip off in a private moment of self-indulgence, rare for a busy mother of four small children, one of which, the youngest, is dying of a malignant brain tumor, to a delicious hot bath and reflect, label, and define my emotions.

Depression can be defined as the “sinking” feeling a person experiences when studying the bombed and ravaged remains of a war-torn mind.

Anxiety is when the mentality, so pained and distressed at the challenge to cope and rebuild, the mind seeks solicitude behind walls of intellect.
Hysteria is when those walls and their foundations are razed by the same that built them and the gates that hold back emotion become swing doors left to rust at the hinges.
Escapism is when the spirit abandons the firing line: withdrawing to be freed from pain to find comfort in back alleys with numbing substances.
Nightmares fill the sleep as the mind that would lift into flight is forced to run standing still and wordlessly lasso the tornadoes that fill its stormy skies.
Even when Calgon won’t take me away from what surely precedes insanity, I say a little prayer and know that years from now I’ll look back on today and say,
“By the Grace of God, I made it.”

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