Riptide

I'm not so sure about summer coming...
For me, heartache comes as well.

I don't mean to be sad.
I don't want to remember.
There seems to be no choice.

Is it the seasonal changes, the light-shifts, the feel of the warm air on my skin? School comes to an end and the kids are excited and sensitive. Whining, tattling, angry and happy as can be as they have every school year ending.

I have a whole summer ahead, free and open and yet something dampens the days. Sleep creeps in first. Longer and longer naps for a while. But pain breaks through and wakes me up. Grief is the weirdest thing. Suddenly I cry in frustration...doesn't even make sense! Unwanted memories flood my head, breaking though dams and dikes, rushing where they shouldn't. How did I get here again?

I'm striving to pay attention. Go, go, I say to the muddy mess left in the wake. I run from that stuff...just let me be! I run and keep on running. Don't think, I say, don't think. Just go.

Rush! Keep planning paintings, riding horses, watching birds. Love the colors, the smells, the breeze, the sun, the spreading fields!

That hurt returns anyway, no matter what defenses I use, it destroys plans and serenity.

I forgot how big this is. I selfishly forget, deny, make light of it, because frankly, the suicide is so over and gone. I want to be repaired. I avoid those closest, closest ones. I avoid them. I avoid me.

In the weeks before school ends, I remember, whether I want to or not, that cold shock, that terrible ache. My mind denies, but the powerful sea waters rush and fill every crevice, pressing me against rock walls. Will and logic keep me afloat for a while. I drift on top, gently swirling into the big turning tide. There really is no chance of peace in these waters. Wake up! Remember the undertow! You can swim for a while along the beach while the undertow pulls, rushing you out deep. There is no chance fighting this dead on, no steely determination. Just swim quietly, parallel to the beach. Remain calm in a horror of violent churning. You may end up miles away, but the walk back down the sandy shore is possible. You will get home.

..............................