Purge

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Too little sleep, too many conflicting emotions and thoughts pounding my brain day after day, as I face each moment bolstered with caffeine, dogged determination to do what is "right" verses what is easy, and hold tight to the silent but very real support from my Tribe. I wish my mind would shut up already about things that just don't matter. Unfortunately I don't know how to make it do that (...and have never been privy to the secret of simply "letting it go"). I seriously have complete conversations in my head about things that haven't happened yet, things that are happening that are complete bullshit, and conflicting stories and agendas that are impossible to unravel. Part of me knows, in light of what's happening, none of those things matter at all. The gravity of the situation at hand makes every bit of that stuff petty, irrelevant. And yet, knowing without question that those things are irrelevant does nothing to assuage the constant turmoil and conflict I feel inside.

The business of dying is a messy endeavor. The process, the outcome brings out the very best in some people and the absolute worst in others. I don't even begin to understand why that is and I'm trying very hard to stay positive, not assume things that haven't happened, yet, but that ain't easy! In the back of my mind I hear the whispered voice of  my friend Aiden, whose cynical position is, "I don't bother giving people the benefit of the doubt because I've learned there is no actual benefit to it." I have given him crap about that view for years, despite the fact that sometimes his view is absolutely spot on. It hurts my soul to admit that. I tell myself, "You can do this. Be detached, take nothing personal, and focus on the end goal." But many times in the days passed, I nearly cracked, nearly lost my shit, and fell into bed thinking, "Thank GOD this day is over and I kept it together." Because no matter what I tell myself, it IS personal...all of it...and shutting that part of it down is practically impossible!

As I rush to get some form of nourishment in my body, hurry to throw a load of laundry in and stop  to remind myself to just breathe before the madness of a new day begins, my phone vibrates. The message is from my husband who says, "Just tell yourself one step, one day at a time. You are doing the most important thing right now. The rest will work out when the time comes." I hope he's right, struggle to suck back tears I am just not ready to shed because I cannot do what's ahead if I utterly fall about. As for the rest,  I know what he would say about all that other "noise". He'd tell me none of that is about me, none of those things are MY bags. Do NOT pick them up. And while I am sometimes tempted to pick them up anyway on principle alone, I force myself not to touch them, just walk by and leave them sitting wherever I find them.

The mountain man is frail flesh stretched over his skeletal body. He is frightened and his time is short. My only focus must be to make his days as full of quality as possible, and offer him comfort as he slips from this life to the next. For my own sanity, I have to find ways to make the thousand other details, issues, and problems hovering around all of this to shut the hell up. The most effective, expedient way to do that is to purge them here, where perhaps someone else will find them helpful.  Even if that's not the case, I will at least be able to stifle them for awhile.