Abandoned

Does it feel that way? That I've abandoned this blog entirely?

It feels that way to me.

When I was at my worst, there was just nothing I could write. On the rare occasion I created a post, my husband would comment to me that it seemed like I was getting better since I was taking an interest in writing again. Then? What? Summer, slow lazy days, days with no intention and no direction and days of breakfast at noon and lunch at 4, and dinner whenever my husband came home and lit the grill. Days of meaningless routine and mild boredom and some bright moments of fun: toasting marshmellows on the grill, sleepovers, old movies to reminisce with the kids, a trip to the beach, camps, missions trips, and over all the sense of peace about not really having to engage. Then, well, the medicine kicked in and I've been a little zombied. A little? No, a lot. Numb. I have ideas, but I can't gather them in their entirety quite enough to make sense, to be worthwhile, to be complete.

I should quit. I should be done. I come and I lurk and I can't muster the will to comment but I hear you and you touch my heart and I long to connect with you more deeply. Reciprocate. That is the blogging world though - it's all about reciprocating. I don't comment, and I don't write often, and suddenly not only am I not on your blogroll, but I'm not even remembered. Wow, that does a great deal of good for someone in my position (ha. ha. ha.) You realize I don't visit regularly, and I don't comment even sporadically, and then...well... I'm deleted from you. Oh how I miss you. But, with good reason I see that you don't miss me. What's to miss?

Tonight however, I am thinking. Before some little white capsules with green script and the little blue tablets and the ruby red sweet CranRaspberry juice with the tiniest (ha. Ha. ha.) splash of white rum, I am thinking.

I am thinking of the woman in my class wearing a simulation heartbeat player strapped to her belly to increase her unborn baby's intellegence (cuz, you know, regular old music is too complicated) and of the intensly scoffing young man with the obviously past 40 wife who wanted to know the standards, the regulations, the ideals of every safety principle I suggested. Lord... can you say "Par-a-noid"? There, I knew you could! Good for you!

I am thinking of a horrible fight my husband and I had, and how after 12 years of marraige, we still can miscommunicate, misunderstand, take for granted, and make assinine assumptions which cause us hours of grief. I am also thinking of tears shed, mercy and grace and the extreme power of love and partnership that blankets over our errors. I am this, he is this. Together? We are mostly balanced, evened out, but with the occasional... umm... you know... snafu.

I am thinking of all the thoughts I want to write down and explore and make sense of, but then those little white pills with green script and the little blue tablets take over and my mind is jelly, is stuff-n-fluff, is a fuzzy memory of what? what? dude, like, what?

I don't want to abandon, any more than I want to BE abandoned. Are you there? Are you reading me? Are you still... here?

Sweet dreams tonight my friends...