Saturday, May 18, 2013
Adrift. Disjointed. Unfocused. Disordered. Bedraggled. Confused. Let go and drifting. Drifting away. Farther. Farther. Trying to regain balance, a tether, a grasp of reality. My tenuous grip is failing, slipping. I know I will slide into a new reality, eventually. But for now I am fumbling for a foothold that is denied me. So I drift away. I narrow my focus. See, understand, grasp what is still mine to control. There is little that I feel is within my power, my command, my control at the moment. What little there is I clutch to my chest, hold tight for fear of losing all direction. While Brain sits numbly, with a hundred yard stare, Body is still on my side and strong, even as Heart has lay down on the floor, curled into fetal position, shellshocked, tremulously awaiting the next round of fire. PTSD. Body lay in defilade, waiting, watching, sheltering Heart. Body is a fortress. Without the strong walls and fortifications of Body, Brain and Heart would have lost the war long ago. What is in my control is Body. So Body will be fed, trained, pushed, while Brain and Heart are allowed a leave of absence. Medical leave. The chance to drift, knowing Body will be their lifeline back to the new reality. Yes, we are adrift, but we will find our way back.