Washing away the heartache

“Sometimes our vision clears only after our eyes are washed away with tears ~unknown

As I step into the surge of water cascading from the wall, the angry stream scolds my face while I allow the anguish to cauterize me. Squeezing my eyes closed, I remain there, as if surrendering will wash away the hurt. Permitting the painful, yet soothing water to sting at my expression, while I muddle through this overwhelming sadness that is upon me.

Clenching my eyes, as if to dam the current, I ask again for a reprieve. I detest these thoughts; they creep in uninvited and tear at my heart, consuming any attempts at rational judgment.  This tug of melancholy is like an anchor at my side, and with the slightest crush of emotions captures me when I fiercely resist the urge to cry as if the tears will dissolve me.

With every day presenting a new challenge this one begins with the struggle to maintain composure as she runs from me when I arrive to pick her up, acting as if I am a stranger rather than her child. This upsetting blow, complete with bystanders breaks me until I give up defeated, and let them take her back.

The overwhelming fear that consumes her has bitterly withdrawn her from the world she once knew, as her vocabulary diminishes, our ability to understand her comes from the stream of relentless tears, each teardrop casting her further away onto this lonely river that separates us.

This illness has trapped her mind in a state of isolation complicated by the endless anxiety that fuels her mentality. Witnessing this unfair destruction crushes me with blows of self-pity and unfairness leading the way. Memory is such a fragile gift and once it has vanished, we all tend to suffer.

Unfolding before our eyes this alteration occurs, as the person who once cared for you becomes a fragile empty existence. Her wavering personalities unravel a new mystery each time we come together, with emotional outbursts drifting from a happy hug to a stomping tantrum and everywhere in between.

No longer recognizing the life we once shared as a forgotten birthday transforms to an abandoned sense of direction, and the inability to comprehend the simplest of things. Silence fills our time together and the repetition of her unchanged vocabulary is all she conveys.

With my heart a tangled mess, I attempt to awaken my spirit and maneuver away from this web of sorrow. Approaching my own fears, while clinging to the melancholy that surrounds me, I stumble forward. Longing for her life to have meaning, I come undone as this daily discord to investigate the ailment drowns me.

Yearning to uncover a purpose of my own I attempt to abandon the guilt that consumes my reasoning. Slowly rising with the sparkle necessary to suppose there is more, and unveil the power needed to pursuit my buried dreams. Unearthing the joy in what is and seizing the faith in what is to come I must discover how to begin again.

As this emotional overload brought me to exhaustion I began to understand that caring for someone you love, who forgot they love you and witnessing their decline will break you into a million little pieces as it consumes your existence.

Once I release my emotions, which often are a puddle before me, I am reminded to be the best caretaker for others; I must begin caring for myself.  Filling the void from my broken heart to build the strength and patience to restore my spirit. 

A simple afternoon of quiet, a theater filled with laughter or that comfy chair to escape with a book, all giving my mind a respite from the relentless heartache. This relief rekindles the serenity required to show up again, ready to advocate for those you love.

Creating dates with my spouse, outings with friends or relaxing getaways provide the opportunity to let go and a chance to refuel. Disappearing into the kindness of others, who take care of me, delivers the encouragement I need to keep going.

Realizing the hurricane of despair has quieted; I am able to let my thoughts calm. The tears slow and the stillness of the moment emerge as I step into a peaceful restoration. Watching the water stream down the drain, removing both my tears and hopelessness as it departs, I allow my breath to soften and welcome this interruption of silence.

With the renewal provided by the showers embrace, I discover the power to control my thoughts and begin rebuilding my soul for another round. Accepting this time to release the anguish provides a cleansing of my spirit as I discharge the gripping sadness and welcome the tranquility to just be.

Granting permission to myself that I am enough as I softly let it go.