I lay here listening to the latest national tragedy. I scroll through my social media to see a number of Amber alerts, funerals, car accidents, divorces, weddings, births, folks struggling with depression, others just struggling, various campaigns for ANTI something or another, and I wonder.
Is THIS life?
Is THIS living?
My neighbor is mowing the lawn, the sun is out, the sky is clear, Pepper is cleaning herself next to me, and I am laying on my black satin sheets wondering about life. The cold breeze is bouncing my blinds back and forth and I stare at the ceiling. I wonder if I am truly LIVING. There are so many moments that I remember in which my life flashed before my eyes and I thought “this is it.” The great big END Game. My final countdown. There were countless times that I would lay on the floor covered in blood, welt marks on my body, and sobbing wildly wishing for all of it to end. There was a time that I wanted to drive into a telephone pole just to end my awful marriage as I knew he wouldn’t just let me go. In some ways, he still has not.
Tears well up in my eyes because some of those moments still hurt. I roll over and hug my blanket. Some of those moments still feel so real and near.
To date? I am a combination of my memories, my favorite songs, my scars, my dreams, my desires, and my flawed humanness. My heart is full of holes, scar tissue, and bandages. My smile is crooked and my nose recently healing from restorative surgery. I know pain. I have never understood how people can take their personal pain and use it against others. I don’t understand murder or abuse. That would be the last thing I would want to do to anyone. Why would a person want to inflict the same pain onto someone else?
Its another one of my many life wonders.
Life is beautiful if you feel it and allow it to come in. Even through the broken parts of me. I feel something. I breathe in each moment and experience it as if it will be my last. I remember the rush of emotions, my heart pounding out of my chest, tears welling up, and anxiety-filled last moment. There is so much that rushes to your head when you truly believe you are dying.
It is hard to explain in words and harder for your mind to forget. The last surgery I had I panicked and was afraid that I would not see Chloe again. I woke from the surgery a hot mess. I thought I died as the very act of being put to sleep is eerily similar to what it’s like to die. What I envision it to actually be like from my past encounters.
I think I value my time living more so than most. It’s my obsession at this point. I want to fully feel my moments. I want to exist and I want more memories of a happy existence. I hope that in doing so, I shine so brightly that the bad moments go away. They haven’t yet and some places inside of me are still numb. They creep up in my sleep or something will trigger my PTSD. A smell. A song. A jolted movement.
I think that from the outsiders’ point of view, I must seem weird. I am compassionate to others, deeply moved, and very focused on living. Those who do not know my path, tend to judge me differently than my intentions. In the past, it was hurtful and I felt compelled to explain. That was when my wounds were still wet and open. Over the years, I have sewed and bandaged myself as well as I can so that I can move forward. I can look at myself in the mirror now. I see a warrior. I see strength. I see passion and love for all.
I might not be who I thought I was to be, but I really dig who I have become. I am a far better human on this planet with the knowledge of what deep pain is like. This has taught me compassion, love, and grounded me deeper into my spiritual practice. I have found myself truly in love. I love LIFE.
Now? Let the adventures begin.
Until next time……………..
I write pieces of my 43-years journey circling this planet. Some are past and some present. The time is not relevant.
It’s the story of healing, hope, transformation, and my overall determination not to give up.
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Living & Thriving with Rustie
2828 S Mccall Rd
Englewood, FL 34224