Have you ever had moments in your life when you feel as if your bones have been liquified? And I don't mean that someone has given you a kiss so wonderful you wanted to melt; I mean the feeling that your body has had all it can take and your bones have just disappeared. And not in the cool way that Harry Potter's arm bone was magically removed in book 2. Just had your bones sucked right out of you where you stood and you crashed to the ground.
I have.
First time I remember it happening was for someone foolish. And I blame the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-alcohol. But when you think you are in "love" and come home to find him and all of his crap gone, and you've not yet realized he had done you a big favor, and you've been drinking, it stands (or falls) to reason.
Second time, January 3, 2009, something in my body knew before my brain allowed me to realize that I'd lost my mother forever. I still cry when I think about that because that's when everything in my life fell apart and I think that I lost more than my bones that day--I lost so much of my soul that I think I shall never, ever recover. I miss her and although I grieve so much every day, I still can't heal.
The last time was the other night. I just hate autism so much and I just can't deal with it anymore. I can't help him and I can't protect the littlest from his rages and so I fail them both. And whatever little bit of a soul I had left after January 2009 just died in me.
I have no backbone left. I can't state how I feel to people that need to know how I feel because I can't even express to them in words what needs to be seen, heard and understood. I cannot fathom how it's not obvious. Apparently I don't understand the self-absorption that would blind someone to the reality around them. I just don't. Or perhaps I am so self-absorbed, I'm the one that is blinded. I don't know. I don't know anymore and am weary of being blamed for being a "know-it-all" and a "no-it all" at the same time. I'm weary. And boneless. And soulless.
