free-writing: a day to forget
Today was the kind of day to be forgotten, to be erased from memory.
Today was the kind of day I fear will linger on by way of the emotional scars it left behind.
Today was the kind of day that rip-roared through our lives like a wildfire, the kind that zipped only two days ago through a village far west from here and razed it all down in the blink of an eye.
Today was the kind of day when nightmares started to pile up in broad daylight, one atop the other, and each word, each memory was a trigger for something worse, something even more hurtful.
Today was the kind of day when old wounds were torn into and bled anew, leaving new scars, the type that will last longer and won't fade, no matter how often and how strong a salve you could apply to them.
Today was the kind of day when it felt that these heavy feelings would never pass, and even the warmth of the sunshine and its dance on the leaves of the trees outside my window couldn't lift my spirits.
Today was the kind of day that began with me telling myself to hold myself in tender-heartedness, in loving-kindness.
But today was also the kind of day that quickly morphed into a volcano, lava bursting forth with the angst of having been suppressed for too long, dredging up memories and hurts and wounds that should have long been acknowledged and forgotten, that should have been buried deep under and never allowed to resurface, for they only know how to burn, how to destroy everything in their way.
Today was the kind of day that brought with it all sorts of questions – questions I thought KrA and I had answered only two days ago to my utmost satisfaction, questions about my life, my worth, my writing, my earning potential, my purpose.
Today was the kind of day that made me feel like I was failing at everything – being a parent, writing, life.
Today was the kind of day that brought me to my knees, and the tears fell so hard and so fast my vision was often blurred and I wondered when I had last ever seen things clearly.
Today was the kind of day that showed me that I was so caught up in my own judgements of how I should be, how my life should unfurl, that I had come to see the world outside as prejudiced and biased, a stark reflection of my own inner reality.
Today was the kind of day in the midst of which I felt I needed something to change drastically, radically, without which I'd surely go insane.
Today was the kind of day that made me realise that the only thing that needed to change was me. My thoughts. My beliefs. My priorities.
Today was the kind of day I couldn't wait for to end, for the hurt it brought was too crushing and too much to bear, and now that the sun is sinking and the child is sleeping, today has also become the kind of day in which I wish I could go back to being a child, to feeling safe in my own body, in my own mind, in my own heart, in my own soul.
Today is the kind of day I want to remember for the way the little one came to hug and kiss me often without saying a word, and when the storm passed, merely reminded me, "You are always precious on the inside."
Image Attribution: Photo by Andraz Lazic on Unsplash