Sunday Night Insomnia: Ire and Pain
How wonderful it is when words can inspire or soothe someone; how distressing it is when words (or the lack of them) can deflate or hurt someone. I am learning to be more careful with words myself, as words have ammunition. I experienced that on Sunday. I have to change my perspective. I wrote a letter about the hurtful behavior (among others) and how hurtful it was. I may mail it. I may shred it. The important point is that those feelings of ire and pain are now outside of my conciousness and onto the page. I tend to not participate in family holidays anymore, as they are psychological land mines for anxiety triggers, which I am learning to avoid. I am still broken--but healing- by the continual sadness that has happened since 2009. At least for now, I am still here, plugging away, attempting to find inner peace in an outer world of pain.