If You Cut Me Open, I’d Bleed Words
Memory of the Garden at Etten
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Vincent van Gogh/WikiCommons
People want your sob stories, your trials, and tribulations . . . They want to peek in on your life to see if you are suffering just as much as them — only, they won’t say this. I give what I can when I can and by using words, I am giving my all. There are days when I can only think about the next story, the next poem, which part of my life to share, et cetera. As a Writer, the mind often wanders, it never really sleeps. In my dreams, characters come out to play, they love to stir up a good time. I am a good host so I allow them to make themselves comfortable at home.
What I am learning with my writing is that I no longer back down — I don’t have to. There is courage and strength and an unmentionable amount of peace in not having to code one’s words any longer. I am also finding that when I allow myself to take in what is around me — nature, the buzzing of cars whizzing by, Jernee, and my family and friends, I can create things I once thought I never could. Soon, I will be taking a trip to Alaska to visit someone I call friend, sister, and a damn good listener.
“I’m really glad you found someone you connect with for therapy. Also, so glad you are working on not feeling responsible for the whole world’s well-being. You seem to be less stubborn about clinging to things you can’t do anything about than you once were. You were REALLY stubborn. LOL Congrats!” — Alexainie
And she is right. Several years back, I’d lose sleep over not being able to solve a friend or family member’s problems. I would wake up in the middle of the night, yearning for a resolution, not content with prayer and it changing things. I wanted instantly gratified results and I wanted them sooner than instantly.
The seed does not grow if it is not watered, if there is no sun, and if no one takes care of it.
A lot of shedding had to take place, a broken heart, a near-broken mind, and plenty of listening. And what else? A hell of a lot of writing. The seed does not grow if it is not watered, if there is no sun, and if no one takes care of it. I am a seed. I have been watered. I bask in the sun. I am taking care of myself. I want to grow.
This trip, one that I have planned for nearly a year, is creeping up on me and although there is anxiety about it, there is an amazing amount of peace too. I have to fly. I hate flying. I fear it — heights give me the willies, yet, I force myself to do these things when I need to. Flying is just another hurdle, a necessary evil. It will not be an obstacle that I cannot tackle, because when it is all over, I will write about it.
I wish I could describe what it feels like to watch one’s words leave their fingertips knowing that before — you had to be cautious.
I have used writing in many ways. It has been a healer, a teacher, a guide, and love when love was lacking. When there was nothing else I could do about a certain situation, I could write about it. I could share it. I could open up and be vulnerable without being questioned, however, now, I am freer. I wish I could describe what it feels like to watch one’s words leave their fingertips knowing that before — you had to be cautious. There is no yellow sign flashing before me, only green. All I can do, all I am doing, is preparing myself to go.
There is living to do. There are memories to be made. And there is writing waiting for me at every turn. I am so full of words that if prompted, they’d come spilling right out of me. If you cut me open, I’d bleed them. What I want to leave behind are pieces of me that will live on forever. Pieces of me that will touch a soul, heal a heart, and connect with someone who needs connection.
I have a fighting spirit. I have been told that several times. It is only now that I truly believe it and my words do too.
I guess one could say, “They’re right on time.”©2019 Tremaine L. Loadholt All Rights Reserved
If You Cut Me Open, I’d Bleed Words was originally published in C.R.Y on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
