Here and Now

Here I am, and there are still difficult days, and yes I know that is to be expected. I had nightmare after nightmare last night, and then body memories throughout the day. Body memories are like being assaulted over again, like flashbacks, without the visual to go along with it. The stabbing pains are a reminder, and then I become angry at myself because I can't control anything. I hate this so much because I only want more than anything for it all to go away. The feelings of not being good enough, strong enough are still with me, and when will I let it go. This is really all that I can write...

You Are... You are the daydream before drifting away playing like a movie on the wide screen As the shadows move across my mind remembering each word spoken whispered in the dark You are the comfort of home my solace in a terror filled night When you speak my name, my heart is at peace Feeling you... Breathing to your rhythm... the pulsing of your hand reaching for mine You are the calming breeze against my skin... the cool touch of your fingers against my cheek rising and falling always returning to the beginning Time quickly passing into years You are everything Completing my soul You are my end Angela Minard 2012©

Scars Remembering who you were returning to the past the distant pain returns closing eyes palms in your hands knowing who you are in the present joyous, but not always free tethered like a puppet on strings moving through memories Scars have made you who you are longing to live in the now the nightmares come in slow motion praying the dark fog will lift cutting each string one at a time reaching to the sky arms held high hear me know my name Angela Minard 2012©

It is difficult to see someone who obviously has an eating disorder suffering, especially when you have suffered so much yourself. It is even more difficult for someone to say something stupid to them. I was at a function this weekend and overheard someone making a big deal over a piece of cake and ice cream that she was eating. Then he proceeded to tell her that 48 hours after you eat sweets, you will crave them even more. Therefore she picked at her cake, finally pushing it away. It broke my heart. Even though I still have poor body image issues, and romanticize about the days when I was too thin, I'm still in recovery and weight restored. I realize the pain she is in, and so much want to reach out and help, but not sure if I should. I remember how much denial I was in, and how angry I would get at the suggestion that I was anorexic. I had to come to a place on my own where I knew that I needed help. I finally realized that I needed treatment, and it was a step in ...

“I dream every day of the ocean, the raging sea, and the clouds that float through my mind like beautiful fragments of time passing. I am free…” ~Angela Minard

I'm back on track, which feels good, although the record heat here for some reason is making me weary. I love summer, and the warmth, but not weeks of warmth in the 100's. My parents will be here tomorrow, and I'm also looking forward to seeing my son who spent most of July with them. It is strange how the dynamics of the family changes with one child missing. I've been doing so much yoga, and am going to try an aerial yoga class next Sunday. I'm needing some change, and something new to challenge me. I also changed my hair this week, leaving it curly instead of straightening it. It was getting curly anyway after yoga with all of the sweating. My summer is almost over, with only a couple of weeks left, but I think I will be ready. I'm also excited about my writing and submitting more poetry. I find it important for my voice to be heard. I share all of my poetry with my therapist, and she always recognizes aspects of the poems that I don't always see whe...

Artwork~ Jennifer Lanne Original The Brillance of Butterflies. The cat next door is crying to be let in, and it is so hot outside. I feel bad about the cat...helpless. It is the warmth that somehow makes me feel safe, as if in a cocoon, so I sit on the back porch today for bits at a time. I called my friend Jenny, because I miss her. I was reading her blog, Jenny Sawle,  and looking at the amazing art that she is making at art camp. Most of it is on clothing, and she is such a gift to me. I've been writing a lot of poetry lately, and sometimes I think my words are meaningless, falling on deaf ears. I question whether they are any good. Mostly I do write them for me, and that is what I need to remember. My therapist thinks I need some twice a week sessions, making me know how much I'm slipping into coping mechanisms. My eating has been sporadic, which I blame on the heat and being off my schedule. I missed some medication, and of course the depression...

Broken Heartbeats Counting broken heartbeats the drumming of being alive... to feel the breath each inhale and exhale moving on the pain of losing will always live inside   The songs we used to sing when we were young Simon and Garfunkle, Heart, and Fleetwood Mac The letters from France living each story Shared dreams Falling in love Catching bouquets Different lives as children grow The distance never mattered or did it? The mistakes unforgiven never to be repaired apologies unaccepted all that can never be undone Sometimes the music plays on the radio  the ache of a lost friendship is haunting Tears turning to anger needing to let it go and remember what was good One day smiling with the memories but always counting the broken heartbeats Angela Minard 2012©

Drought The clouds darken the room with shadows shattering the daylight The quiet afternoon which finally shades the sun The rain holds on tight to the sky like tears that swell unshed The dry, cracked soil beyond the locked doors The creek beds empty only the faded violet thistle growing along the path Outside of the windows, the gray promises taunting Time passes slowly waiting for something elusive the blue breaking through light returning Another day in torrents, it will come pounding the earth, endless pouring music on the roof It will come Angela Minard 2012©

In The End I don't know where to begin... Maybe it is with the same song that played over and over as I fell down the crumbling staircase The memory of your eyes arms unreaching from a distance the laughter echoed rising above the music slowly fading into the dust You had chosen the dress that I wore Tying the laces so tight that with each breath I was reminded of your mouth on mine Tracing my body with your fingertips as if you were drawing me on canvas never to forget each stroke and it was my dream where it began never afraid for you to know that I loved you Angela Minard 2012©

A Promise Running from a promise the distance growing wider with time The shadow of a dream searching empty streets A familiar face in a crowded room pushing past bodies only to find a stranger Beautiful in a different way Similar, but not the same There was the written apology for asking too much left unanswered without explanation the aching silence ending with a promise Angela Minard 2012©

The week has started off very well here in the Minard household. Sunday my husband shot a hole in one in the golf tournament he was playing in, and yesterday I found out that one of the poems I submitted last month is going to be published in a poetry journal called The River Poets Journal. I'm really excited to get some positive feedback on my writing, and it encourages me to keep submitting. Other than that, not much else is going on around here. I can't believe it is already July and the summer is half over. It has been wonderful, and I'm going to enjoy every last second of it! Wishing everyone a fun and safe holiday:)