"He Leadeth Me On the Path..."

Dear Hearts,

“The Lord Is My Shepherd, I Shall Not Want.”

I want so badly to believe this. To feel it.

I took things for granted in my old life. Being a teacher. Being a functioning person—regardless of happiness. Teacher conferences—teaching Gatsby and Streetcar.

That was someone else’s life.

“Take a deep breath, feel like you’re chokin’

Everything is broken” Bob Dylan

Is X a forgone conclusion? I will lose it or give it up?

Tom Cotton is 39. He fought in Iraq and Afghanistan and he’s a senator. The youngest. He was in WAR and didn’t break down. I wish I had found a man like Tom.

I am on disability and can’t even bear to go the ER with Dad tomorrow—for his ear wax—because of all the germs.

I know what my episodes are. They protect me from the Living. The prevent me from functioning. They are my subconscious giving me a reason to stay in purgatory.

I told Dad tonight: it was either here or the morgue. It wouldn’t be a hospital. I had a plan. I laid down in the graveyard in NY after a Friday night Ala-Non in the spring. Before I went home to T. I smoked a cigarette about thought about how to die.

I am the crazy daughter. The crazy sister.

Oh, she’s drawing. How cute.

Enjoy the moment.

Bite my platitudes.

The guilt is an albatross around my neck.

God—what do you want with me?? Please tell me…I can’t even say…what I want or need…Am I real?

I have all these blessings. Truly. Fuck me. Maybe God is telling me and I just am deaf and dumb.

Not 500 words. What the fuck is this narcissistic blog supposed to accomplish anyway?

“He leadeth me of the Path of Righteousness for his Name’s sake.”

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: Dad bought me a yummy latte and my favorite Amish danish thing. I'm grateful for that.