I have just been in surprise. Simply overwhelmed by the amount of care shown to me by other people. Private comments, private guestbook entries, emails, poems, songs, chats, and prayers. I make a little desperate cry and so many come running. I honestly wasn't expecting it. I have never had so many who care so much. They shower me with reassurances and validations of my person. The comfort me.
But no, my ego doesn't grow. Not one bit. It won't. Rather, all of the affection and attention gives me a feeling of strength. One of comfort. I feel as if they are my bed of comfort. I may rest in all of their figurative arms and rest as they whisper me kindnesses to give me sweet dreams. Then I may awake and return to my darkness and continue my rough journey, knowing that next time I am too weary to walk on my own, they will come and help me back to their arms. I may then lay back down and rest again. Their collective efforts are so very much appreciated. I don't know what I would do without anyone.
Some more than others. I admit, I have favorites. I would rather not disclose, to keep feelings from being hurt, but I just can't help it. Some help more than others. Some efforts are better than others. Because they know me better. And I am even more thankful for those, and appreciative of those who have seen more of my cracks and my rags for what they are, but choose to stick by. They can't always be there, and often, just one person isn't enough. Which is where my little network of comfort comes in. And all together, I am restored.
I am still in misery. I admit. I am still far from piecing anything together, but I am much calmer, and feeling very peaceful. Its a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling. It makes me very teary. Teary with tears of joy. It all comes from my network of friends, and from focusing on others. It is so theraputic to forget one's own troubles and turn to other's.
Oh so much...and sleep. Sleep brings great clarity. I admit I woke up this morning in a much better mood than when I had gone to sleep, because my brain smoothed a lot out and buried it deep while I rested. Sleep always does that. It brings those sort of things together.
I have written some poetry lately, yet I am such a bad poet that I am loathe to post any. Misery does breed better eloquence for poetry in me than any other mood. Yet only one is actually, technically, a complete poem, and it isn't that good. So I am going to hold off on that. If anyone is terribly interested in those, you can always contact me in some way or other (I have a good amount of methods for doing so). You may request that I post them, or I could just email them to you. But I would highly doubt that anyone is really dying to see them, I figured I would say that anyway. Just in case.
I did write a poem today, but that was a very special poem. That poem was written in response to a poem a friend wrote me the other day when I was in blackest of moods. I printed it [the poem he wrote me] out and have since read it over an uncountable number of times, and I still have to be sitting down whenever I read it. I had some concerns I won't voice here, and that I probably won't voice at all now, that drove me to feel that something needed to be done for him. A response poem. A gift. It is a gift. I wrote. I cannot pass judgement on it because it is so. I won't speak of it anymore, but it was the least I could do. Everytime I read his, I feel that mine detracts from his. But I suppose its too late now.
And lastly, the poem someone else wrote for me today. I shied from posting the first poem I recieved because I feel that that might be a tad too personal, the second...hell I don't know why I haven't posted the second. The song. I suppose it is because he feels it is mediocre. I don't want anyone to get a low opinion of his writing talent from it. But the third, was a gift. Yes, a gift. It was written for me, all rights to this poem were given to me. Yes, all rights. This poem is ALL MINE! As long as I leave his signature (and of course I shall, I will never claim it as my own work), I am free to do as I like with it. And that is so special.
I really love this poem and it sums up my feelings so well. I could hardly capture my current feelings better. Thus I simply had to post it.
Broken Echo of Glass
~written by Cyrik
My reflection is shown
Distinctive in this clear-cut reflective glass,
Or rather, it was.
No longer do I have but one crystalline image to choose from.
Now
Hundreds of twisted fragments,
Shattered images,
All smile back at me.
Each of them show my face
In the chaotic pattern of their parts,
All seeming the same
Though ever so different.
A scantly altered angle
Of my visage stares back,
Amidst each piece.
For just as the shards before me,
I am broken.
The mirror isn't only
A portal to seize my reflection,
It is me.
More me then she who casts that image
Could ever be.
I begin reparations,
Again.
Mending this splintered mess
Slice by sliver.
Fingers all red, colored from cuts.
With a happy grin
I embrace the pain.
Because it tells me a secret.
That I can still be healed.
Not quite now
But soon.
Not there yet
But almost.
It, and I
Will be whole again.
And then...
My inner complexion can finally match,
The image in,
My reflection.
It means a lot to me. Thank you again.
Thank you to all those who have shown support. Please continue to, I really need it. I really appreciate it. I am going to pull through. I will be back down, I think I can sense that, but I will be right back up. I will make it through. By the grace of God, and the love of my friends.
PS The cast page went through some revamp. If anyone cares. I have been editing my online friends section. No more brownie points, not really my style anymore, but I think it might be slightly better written now. Who knows. It might go through some more revamps in the next few days.