The Climb

I’ve risen up from the depths of despair. It has been an arduous climb. The face of that mountain is steep and the surface uneven. The pits are many and the spikes painful. But climb I have. I’m not at the summit and may never be but with every foot I ascend, the view improves. Life improves.

So often I want to throw down a rope and help you climb up. It’s then that I remember I have been doing that for years. Sometimes you don’t even bother attempting to catch it and other times you do but you refuse to hang on. You’ve even held it long enough to rise up a few feet. You don’t really want the view from up here. If you did, you’d work for it. I need to accept that and let it be. I need to let that be your truth without it affecting mine.

It’s with the new view I have that I realize it’s not my rope. It belongs to everyone and it’s been there for an eternity and will remain just as long. Anyone can grab on and go for the ride of their life or they can stay where it’s familiar but limited. Their choice; your choice. For me, I’m headed to the mountaintop. I’ll wave when I get there.

So much going on

There's been so much going on. Zach is still unable to leave the house. I can't even get him in the car for a ride. He keeps telling me he'll go but then he refuses at the last minute. I had asked his father to take him for a few days, thinking that it was a place Zach's familiar with and would be safe at. He's in crisis and I need David's help. Silly me, I forgot I'm their only parent. David was just a sperm donor. Once again, he will not help his children. I'm at a point where I'm so utterly disgusted by him that I am beating myself up mentally for ever having had a relationship with this pig of a man. How did I not see him for what he is? I vacillate between the ideas of being able to love him to emotional health and not really loving him - just wanting the marriage and babies thing. I was so dysfunctional at that time that it's probably both. See the saying "If it has tires..."? That's my tribute to my relationships with men. Why can't there be a third gender??

On a good note, I just started working part time at the college's art gallery. We are having an opening tomorrow night for a group of local artists whose works we are displaying. The director hung the show yesterday. The work is good but not really my taste. But then again, I'm a photographer, not a painter. Well, not yet anyway. I haven't really ever tried it.

I finally got my copy of the magazine that published one of my poems; Consciousness Magazine. I haven't read the whole thing yet but I found me. My poem is on a page with a few others. It doesn't stand out like I had hoped but I'm published. I'm doing the happy dance.