Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
You can also find Monica's writing here:
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Finding My Way

A lot of the time I want to reach up with both hands, curl my fingers around a handful of collar bone and just start ripping. Calmly tear my body wide open until you can see my heart pumping violently, the smooth, white xylophone of rib cage, miles of glistening intestine, the giant wad of panic forever lodged in my esophagus. Don't look away. Here it is: the blood and guts of humanity. It's great and it's terrible and awesome and unspeakably tragic. Look at it.

I wrote that paragraph a year or so ago and I find it's one of maybe five specific word groupings I've ever written that comes back to me again and again.

It's been a black week. Not in a run of the mill depression kind of way. There have been pin pricks of extraordinary light shining through the darkness only an intense audit of one's life can bring.

Am I where I should be?

Am I doing the right thing?

Am I being fair to those I love the most?

Am I valuing the important things?

Am I on autopilot?

If the answer to any of the above strays into negative territory and you really care about leading a life worth living... A paralyzing blackness descends as you contemplate your next move. And finding your way in the dark is difficult, at best.

I am feeling too much and I don't want all this emotion. It's strangling me. Autopilot is so much more comfortable.

I realize all this is very vague and if you're still reading here you may find that annoying but, frankly, I ain't writing this for you. Or you. But maybe you.

Blogs are weird things and mine is no exception. It has meant many things to me over the years but I no longer have any illusions about any of it. I could disappear tomorrow and that would be fine. Maybe that's what keeps me coming back; the notion that a few keystrokes could end the whole thing. It's a very liberating thought. That and the fact that I actually feel like I'm writing in a journal when I come here now. That's a nice feeling too.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about all the things I "need." A new bed for the kids, a stool for the art deco vanity I bought off Craigslist, a new car... Except I don't need them, I just want them. It's easy to confuse the two. Or convince yourself that a want is a need. It's also a slippery slope into focusing on the tangible things you "need" in lieu of the spiritual stuff you really need.

I lost my way for a while. Actually, I don't know if I ever really knew the way. Regardless, I'm trying to find my way now. The hard part is figuring out what I want vs. what I really need and combining that with what's best for the people I love the most. Is it even possible? I don't know.