scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


19.3.10
what do i need, and what do i believe, and what do i know, and why? if i change this, touch this, know this, see this, feel this. Cold in my house. cold in my bed. am so tired, so morally exhausted. cold in the sun by the window, cold in the bath. if all i am is cold, disconnected, this is no panic attack. I breathe, i do not fear death, i have no physical pain. Some things are better than others, there is cold and there is cold, and there is cold.

i am a leaf on the wind but the wind is keening, it roars in my head, a torrent, a requiem.

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scrawled @ 21:22

Anonymous Anonymous said...20/3/10 03:06 ...
Liz, I felt cold for about six months after each of my parents died; nothing warmed me up. Could the word "mourning" describe what is happening to you - at least somewhat?
Mom 

Blogger Rama said...22/3/10 15:38 ...
*big warmth-giving hug* 

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