Bru's Musings

I realized today that I have finally, completely, given up hope. I'm too tired to fight anymore; I just don't have it in me to wage the war or even one more battle. I can only resort to basic survival now.

It isn't that I'm in constant pain; it's that I'm on constant guard against pain. The list of things I can't do seems ever-present in my mind, first and foremost is don't laugh, even a little. I had long ago accepted the fact that my heart was broken beyond repair, finally coming to terms with living with it pieced back together like a glass bauble held together with tape - not mended, but with all the pieces held in place. This was fine, because I was able to focus on things that made me laugh as the bright spot in my days. Laughter has been my healing balm, my drug of choice, my medicine for an ailing soul, my gift from God. Now that, too, has been taken from me.

An act as simple as sneezing, coughing, clearing my throat, or bending over to pick up something I drop on the floor can ruin my day. And I am alone in this. I know Christ loves me, for scripture tells me He does. But I can't see it, and I can't feel it. And other than my son, I have nothing. How did I get to this place? How did I get to be so alone? How is it that I spend so much time listening to others and encouraging them, yet I can't even finish a sentence without interruption or seeing their eyes glaze over or have them change the topic of conversation?

Hope is gone and in its place is....emptiness.