Strength vs. Weakness: A Rambling...

Does real strength come from what you don't do? Or does it come from what you allow yourself to do? With the passing of my friend, I have wondered this. Am I strong for not letting myself cry at work, with friends, with family about missing her? Or am I stronger for letting myself cry at home or with a friend over the phone? Is it weak of me not to cry? Is it bad of me to smile? I know she would want us to be glad that she is in a better place. I truly am, because she cannot feel anymore pain. But, how is that supposed to comfort her family, her finance, her friends, me? How am I supposed to pretend that I am okay and move on? Am I honoring her memory by making positive changes to my life such as working out and being healthy? How do I continue to make change when I feel defeated, sad, bitter, angry, and so so very alone, not just because of her death but because of where I am in my life? I know I am loved. But, it's like being in a room full of people, even with those who knew Sam, and still I feel completely and utterly alone. Everyone keeps asking me what makes me happy, what do I want. I know what I want. But, either I cannot have it or I don't know how to get there. I feel so lost and confused. I'm scared. And, I miss her.

Night Terrors...

For the past two weeks or so, I have been having trouble falling asleep. And, when I do finally fall asleep, I've been tending to have night terrors. Horrible dreams of death and destruction. I think a lot of it has been due to the stress of my waking life dealing with my friend with cancer and financial/work issues. Last night it was especially bad. I went to bed about 11pm and couldn't fall asleep until almost 2am. This morning, just my luck, I had to be up early at like 7:30am.

Well, I woke up at 7am to the sun shining through my blinds. This has been the first time in awhile that a) I've been up this early b) The sun woke me up c) The sun has actually been out. I hope that this is a sign that times will start to look up for me. The following poem is an expression of what it has been like for me lately, with part of it mentally written at 1:30am this morning.

Night Terrors

The whirling wind wildly whips
against the clear and crisp
black abyss of the sky,
which envelops itself around
the old wise trees.
These trees outstretch their limbs
looking for any sort of comfort.
A storm suddenly enters the dark, long night
ruining the solace the trees seek.
The wind grows angry,
howling now over and under
the weakened branches.
Rain drips down my window pane,
bringing the torture outside to me.
My tears begin to stream
down
my face,
staining my freshly white sheets.
I lie there as the turmoil
is released slowly in silent screaming.
Many nights have passed or so it seems.
The clock strikes two with a clank,
and still I cannot find relief.
I wonder if this all torments you as much as me.
Or are you finally sleeping and slumbering tonight?
Dawn breaks, the clouds dissipate,
and the rain on my pillow dries
as I drift off, swollen and beaten
to the only place that is safe,
dreaming
of
you.