If You Cut Me Open, I’d Bleed Words
The Strength of Writing When Nothing Else Works
People want your sob stories, your trials, and tribulations . . . They want to peek in on your life to see if you are suffering just as much as them — only, they won’t say this. I give what I can when I can and by using words, I am giving my all. There are days when I can only think about the next story, the next poem, which part of my life to share, et cetera. As a Writer, the mind often wanders, it never really sleeps. In my dreams, characters come out to play, they love to stir up a good time. I am a good host so I allow them to make themselves comfortable at home.
What I am learning with my writing is that I no longer back down — I don’t have to. There is courage and strength and an unmentionable amount of peace in not having to code one’s words any longer. I am also finding that when I allow myself to take in what is around me — nature, the buzzing of cars whizzing by, Jernee, and my family and friends, I can create things I once thought I never could. Soon, I will be taking a trip to Alaska to visit someone I call friend, sister, and a damn good listener.
“I’m really glad you found someone you connect with for therapy. Also, so glad you are working on not feeling responsible for the whole world’s well-being. You seem to be less stubborn about clinging to things you can’t do anything about than you once were. You were REALLY stubborn. LOL Congrats!” — Alexainie
And she is right. Several years back, I’d lose sleep over not being able to solve a friend or family member’s problems. I would wake up in the middle of the night, yearning for a resolution, not content with prayer and it changing things. I wanted instantly gratified results and I wanted them sooner than instantly.
The seed does not grow if it is not watered, if there is no sun, and if no one takes care of it.
A lot of shedding had to take place, a broken heart, a near-broken mind, and plenty of listening. And what else? A hell of a lot of writing. The seed does not grow if it is not watered, if there is no sun, and if no one takes care of it. I am a seed. I have been watered. I bask in the sun. I am taking care of myself. I want to grow.
This trip, one that I have planned for nearly a year, is creeping up on me and although there is anxiety about it, there is an amazing amount of peace too. I have to fly. I hate flying. I fear it — heights give me the willies, yet, I force myself to do these things when I need to. Flying is just another hurdle, a necessary evil. It will not be an obstacle that I cannot tackle, because when it is all over, I will write about it.
I wish I could describe what it feels like to watch one’s words leave their fingertips knowing that before — you had to be cautious.
I have used writing in many ways. It has been a healer, a teacher, a guide, and love when love was lacking. When there was nothing else I could do about a certain situation, I could write about it. I could share it. I could open up and be vulnerable without being questioned, however, now, I am freer. I wish I could describe what it feels like to watch one’s words leave their fingertips knowing that before — you had to be cautious. There is no yellow sign flashing before me, only green. All I can do, all I am doing, is preparing myself to go.
There is living to do. There are memories to be made. And there is writing waiting for me at every turn. I am so full of words that if prompted, they’d come spilling right out of me. If you cut me open, I’d bleed them. What I want to leave behind are pieces of me that will live on forever. Pieces of me that will touch a soul, heal a heart, and connect with someone who needs connection.
I have a fighting spirit. I have been told that several times. It is only now that I truly believe it and my words do too.
I guess one could say, “They’re right on time.”
©2019 Tremaine L. Loadholt All Rights Reserved
