Sunday

Pictographic Divider

back on 'service' (hospice)

I went back on 'service' I think just shy of two weeks ago, maybe less but knew it was coming for two weeks and I must say, something is different. Certainly different people, rules, regulations and protocol to get to know, but something is different about me.

I do not have that fighting spirit I had before. The 'I plan to conquer the world',
gone
and although I am certainly NOT ready to resign to the fact that 'gloom and doom' stands directly in front of me, rearing her face, I have no smiles to greet her, no welcomes into my world as I carry forward with less 'huts pa' and emotional fortitude.

I am tired, have been tired before but there is a definite sense of finality I did not have before that I now have, a permanency and urgency to accomplish all that I need but an overwhelming fog that clouds my mind, not my judgment, and leaves me to wonder how close death truly is.

I think more, talk less, spending more time inward and avoiding the external that I see before me other than sharing it with self as more people have added a sense of closure to my plight through their actions or non actions, me left to continue to pick up the pieces of emotional heartache I thought I was over for awhile at least.

I sense what I will not experience, will not accomplish, will not see and although I still hold hope and will mighty and high, my arms are tired, my hands shake and my legs ready to crumble beneath me as I push forward for another breath, another day, another dream...
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