Thank you…

you are the fresh air
playing in the flowers
that rise wildly through a darkened earth

When I turn from the sun, shoulders slumped
I breathe you in
And find strength for one more step

That step leads me to butterflies, square dancing through an abundant garden

It pulls me through shadows left behind from a devoted storm

I stop in awe…

Every rainbow has met as one~ into a beam of endless colour

exactly where I once felt cold and alone…worried and scared

now only light…

only colour…

only new wishes for new days…

Sweet hope …

I watch my thoughts that have held me down, heavy with fear,

earn their wings,

and soar to the sun,

and as they leave me

I say …

thank you~

 

 

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I’ll eat at home.

I don’t want to be required to talk to people to get my food.

I don’t usually like eating at restaurants or other peoples houses. I don’t want to be required to talk to people to get my food. What if they seat me at a table with 2-4 hard chairs?  No, I need a booth.  A quiet, cozy booth out of the way of traffic and bright windows.  What if I order something super scrumptious and want to stuff it in, but then cannot even enjoy it because of all the people around who might be watching me eat? I’ll be forced to take pretty little bites and dab my lips over and over.  Things will get sloppy and I’ll be stuck trekking through a bunch of tables and people to find the washroom. It will be smelly and have super loud flushing toilets that flush when I’m not ready.  There will be hand dryers that only go off once I am certain they aren’t working with my type of motion. It will be too dark to actually see the sauce on my uncomfortable outing outfit.  As I find my way back to the table I will wonder if people are staring.  If I see someone look at me I will assume I have something dreadful stuck to my shoe or worse, maybe I forgot to pull my pants up!  I’ll wish I had checked the mirror just one more time.

I don’t feel “chill” enough to risk going to someone’s house where I’m likely already in something way less comfy than yoga pants and a sweater and then be served fish. Or something equally grotesque like liver? How do I maintain my happy-go-lucky, calm persona when the look and smell of the food on my plate make me feel like I might start spinning around while vomiting like the exorcist girl? What if they have no diet coke…only regular? What if they don’t have kids and want to talk about politics? What if they have some fancy fork or tong that everyone but me knows how to use? What if their toilet runs over??  What if they serve wine and they start to wonder if I had too much when I slur my words, not realizing I’m just really uncomfortable and rarely speak without some sort of nonsense coming out.  What if I DO have too much wine and I start channeling their deceased Grandma or recently departed hamster??  No thanks, I’ll eat at home.

Go for Coffee??

You wouldn’t ask Santa if we could “do this more often” Hasn’t he done enough?

“Hey, let’s go for coffee”  Uh, excuse me?  No.  That’s just way too aggressive.  Like where are we going?  Will it be hard to find, is wide open parking available?  What kind of people will be there?  Will I feel awkward? (of course I’ll feel awkward)  Will they have weird coffees that nobody knows how to pronounce, forcing me to sound like an idiot??  Will I need to pay ten dollars for a big silly mug of some hard to pronounce brew that I will be too nervous to even enjoy?  Will someone else you know show up, forcing me to act all cool and fun?  Will it turn into shopping and a movie?  Will I be unable to concoct a good enough reason why I can’t go.  Is “I need to go home and sit quietly” a good enough reason to refuse a continued interaction?  If I’m able to get out of there safely will you start popping in?  What if you start calling me to kill time?  Will I happily agree to your super fun party while we are being all social and then finally, at home, be in the pits of hell trying to figure my way out of it?  I can maybe do one event.  Per year.  It takes me the rest of the year to reflect on it and find moments to recover from it.   Kinda like Santa.  You wouldn’t ask Santa if we could “do this more often”  Hasn’t he done enough?  I realize I’m not heading out with a sleigh full of toys and bringing joy to one and all but I’m preparing and planning and will be putting on my best self when it’s my time.   When I head home that’s it.  Year off.