This is Just a Brain Dump.

Tears and words trapped inside.

Robotically moving forward, but I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere.

Sometimes laughing.

Embracing some.
Pushing others away.
The ones who need me most.

Empty places, full places.
Nothing feels right.

Except some things.

I don’t know what this even is. Where this comes from, or where it’s taking me.

Writing ought to come naturally.
It doesn’t.

I struggle.
I slam the door on the struggle, and force it to be quiet.
I don’t want it right now.

But, I need it.

I want to be happy.
Except sometimes.

I don’t want to share this.
Have to.

Nothing makes sense to me.
Except birth and death.

Living. Moving. Waking. Sleeping. Walking. Striving. Schooling. Eating. Teaching.


Not writing. Not playing. Not connecting. Not doing. Not planning.

I confuse myself.

I know there is hope. I know “better.”

This just is what it is.

Whatever that may be.

This is just a brain dump.

Grace & Peace,


8 thoughts on “This is Just a Brain Dump.

  1. It is what it is, indeed. And sometimes you have to just let yourself be there. You will emerge one day. I hope you can find some hope in that.

    • I do, indeed. It’s this weird, nonsensical mix of hope and grief that confuses me so… So, I keep walking and ignore both when I can.

  2. It hurts my heart to know yours is hurting, my Friend. I’d give my left pinky to find that one AH-HAH! thing that would put this stupid puzzle together for you and make everything suddenly sensical and harmonic again. Have you tried…? Have you thought about…? Would you consider…? all rings meaningless to you right now and I understand that, mostly. But it’s hard not to scour the basement for the silver bullet, you know? I’ll sit on my thumbs and continue to sit with you and this…thing…but in my mind I’m running wild trying to find a way to help.

    Love you.

  3. I’m so sorry. I’ve actually been wondering how you were and had thought of writing you a couple of times to ask, but then the baby would cry or Eli would need something and the intention was lost for the moment. I don’t have anything to say that wouldn’t just be trite, but I feel for you and I pray for you.

    • Thank you, Karen. I feel like anything I would say in response would also be trite, but I really do feel blessed that you have thought of and prayed for me. Thank you.

Comments are closed.