Monday, September 1, 2008

lupus in the artists room


After the boxes were filled...
After dismantling the old desk and bringing in the new smaller one...
After everything had been quickly grabbed and placed into the right category...

...that's when the damn broke.

I sat at the shiny, brand new, unused desk and burst into a heap of tears.

What was I crying for?
Why did this feel so painful?
Where were my emotions going with all of this?

then I remembered the voices.

Every time I picked something up, it spoke to me, "I am important because...I am a good memory from some place and time...I represent a new change...blah blah blah." Each thing in this room held a tangible reason for being there. Every project I started and everything that went along with it was my attempt at keeping myself busy. My effort from going crazy about being chronically sick. My escape from the reality of the physical pain that was constantly nagging at my brain. "Hey, I'm here and I'm really powerful, so stop ignoring me!" The things in this room...my stuff, held my attention long enough so that the bully would stop yelling at me and now it was all in these boxes waiting to be put in their new rightful places.

It was all very overwhelming, so I cried these big long tears that came from...God knows where?

Therapy...this room was my place of therapy and I let it get out of hand, way out of control. I mean, the kind of mess where you have to make paths here and there to get to anything and only you know where everything is. I stopped being able to clean up after myself. I became so sick that I could just about get some project, into my lap and then didn't have the energy, or the strength to put it all away......and that's how it all starts. And before you know it, everyone in the house keeps that door closed because it looks like a hurricane hit it. It looks like the person who owns that room is sick & crazy...

...and that is just how I felt inside.

So now, the painstaking part is over and my "things" are waiting for me to put them in the most useful places. Oh, I'm still crying...the pain is still being felt...but the room already feels lighter, the stuff around me sounds different...

...as if their cries of recognition have turned from desperation...to gratitude.

8 comments:

Wanda said...

Oh my how sad that sounds, I feel and see your tears...it's almost like a death of sorts.

But when you get it all arranged, and everything is where is should be...a breath of new life will spring up... and maybe you'll shed happy tears, and maybe you'll make me another lovely card...

I love you my darling...
I feel your emotions and I ache to be near you.

Love for ever,
Wanda Mom

Jack K. said...

Tears of pain.

Tears of frustration.

Tears of pity.

Tears of forlornness.

Tears of remembrance.

Tears of hope.

Tears of better things.

Tears of wonder.

Tears of Thankfulness.

Tears of LOVE.

Share them again when you need.

Thanks for being here.

Continue to...
serve with integrity, care about those you serve and share the love in your heart/soul.

Sandy said...

Happened to stop by and I would just love to drop off a hug...

(((darlene)))

take care sweetie.

sweet expressions said...

Gypsy Girl,

take one breath,moment, at a time



sending you hugs wishing you peace

Annie said...

Dearest Darlene,

Unleash your artist again. Sending you many hugz, beautiful lady.

Eileen W. said...

Your sanctuary and your healing go on in that room. xoxo

Dana Jones said...

Darlene: I wish I had some clever words to tell you all will turn out alright.

Instead I just offer my ears to listen, as your words carry all the wisdom right now.

You are loved dear Darlene!
Dana

chulita4 said...

I went back to read some of your recent posts and my heart went out to you on this one.

I went through a simalar experience when I was packing to make my move from WA to CA earlier this year. Now I moved again, from renting a room from friends, to renting a house from them, and as I did the packing I broke down and cried several times as I went through my stuff and tried to sort what I needed to keep and what I needed to give away or through away. That was hard, but I did it, I went through it and I feel that along with the tears and the stuff I did not keep I let go of a lot of pain from my past. Funny how our outside whole does mimic our inside world. Thanks for a very honest and heart-felt post. Love and hugs to you and go unleash that creative and beautiful artist's soul and spirit inside you!!!