Life, fracturing into a million tiny pieces. Hold on to them, don’t let the go. But they are torn from my bloody fingers, torn away with force. I try to grab, try to keep them close, but the pull is too strong and they are gone.
Months of heartache and pain. Every part of part of me breaking. Every part of my family fracturing. As hard as I try, as determined as I am to make it right, the cracks continue to form. The pieces continue to break away.
I feel so helpless and at times hopeless. There seems to be no solutions, only more problems. There is no firm ground to stand on, nothing to anchor a lifeline to and a voice in my head saying, “All is lost. All is lost.”
Empty platitudes and sympathetic smiles do nothing to relieve the very real pressures of the life I find myself trapped in. The world marches on, unconcerned, unhindered, unknowing of my plight. The black dog bays unrelentingly.
Where is the light? Where is the relief? Where is the dawn of reprieve? There is none, there is nothing, just darkness and a void swallowing my life, swallowing my joy, swallowing me.
The night is full of terrors. Attacks come from those closest. The vultures circle, sensing death. Their hungry eyes watching, waiting, claws at the ready to rip and tear.
I want the nightmare to end. I want the pain to abate. I want the pieces back together, whole again. But how can you repair something so utterly destroyed? How can it ever be put to rights?
Nothing will be the same. The cracks will remain, the pieces missing. The gaping holes will testify to our loss and our forever broken lives. All is lost. All is lost.