Words rule my life, as they do all our lives. We speak to one another, we text, we blog, write, Twitter, all of it. Whether misspelled, misshapen, misspoken, they are there, thrown, hurtled, and passed gently as whispers. They assail me everyday and yet I find that my personal dictionary is dried-up, my larynx closed, my frontal lobe quiet. We're talking parched Earth here, people.
In the past seven months, I've used my words as weapons. Yes, the keyboard is mightier than the sword. Words have been flung at me with the force of a machine gun and I've weathered the assault with biting, cutting verbiage of my own. Oh, yeah, I've driven down that road and left a dusty wake of nastiness behind me and here at the end, I find myself unable to utter a simple declarative sentence.
In the past four years, I've used my words to teach, correct, yell, tell stories, and soothe hurt feelings. My children constantly call for Mama, they jabber about their days and holler when wronged. They expect me to have the answers to all of their questions and I just don't have them right now. It's too much, to be responsible for teaching them everything. I'm wrung out. I don't have it in me to give out one more Say 'Excuse me!' when you burp. or Apologize to your sister. or I love you.
I speak only when spoken to. I don't respond to e-mails or comments. My answers are short and sweet and my questions stay unspoken. I just can't find the words to express how I'm feeling. I read, I absorb, I listen and watch, but my language centers have hit pause and I'm not quite sure how to get back to the beginning when the words flowed without a jumble.
I need quiet, rest, no one depending on me or any decisions I have to make. I dream of being still, of answering to no one. But all of that is impossible.
So I guess I'll just wait for the words to come.
Who Am I?
- Coal Miner's Granddaughter
- I am the 40-ish granddaughter of Frank (see header), a fiddle-playing coal miner from West Virginia. I was born and raised in said state and have lived in Georgia since 1994. I have a wonderful husband, three beautiful kids, one cranky cat, and one anxiety-ridden dog.
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Confessions of a Coal Miner's Granddaughter by Coal Miner's Granddaughter is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
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17 comments:
Ooh. I'm happy it's not just me then! I was worried you hated the DOTs and were avoiding me!
Feel better. Find your voice when you're ready. :-)
It will come when it's ready Sometimes we all need a moment to reflect and regroup. Here's hoping you find your well of words and the focus to bring them out again.
I know the feeling and trust me. The words will come to you again.
* HUG *
You better damn well answer my emails! 'Cept I'm too much of an introvert to email you. So... disregard.
I've gone through a couple of those spells. That's why I've had more photo posts than wordy posts lately. I think it's the turning of the season. It always brings gloom.
Blah. Feel better!
Totally sort of maybe off topic: I am writing a blog post right now that talks about "sticks and stones". We're on a wavelength.
Sounds like you need to get away - can't you convince Ty to go with you and go diving for a few days? :)
Avitable has a point. You need some "recharge the batteries" time. Whether it's you and your husband or you off by yourself - you need a change of scenery. I hope it's possible for you - even if it's only going to the library and browsing books for a few hours - or going to Panera Bread and treating yourself to a soup 'n' sandwich - or just doing something simple for YOU - for your 'self'.
We'll all be here when you find your words, Heather. We're like a shadowy presence in the corner...lurking, always here, waiting. And we've got all the patience in the world.
leave the kids with ty and come up to pittsburgh for a long weekend. vacations are good for the soul. i promise not to ask you a shit ton of questions. :)
I know this feeling all to well. Perhaps some time away from the virtual world will help.
Hang in there. It will come. We'll be here.
A little vacation might be necessary!
I really hope you feel better.
xoxo
You need some down time. The words will come when they are ready, when you are ready.
Take care of you. We'll be here when you get back.
I think the words are hiding in Bonaire. You'll need to dive deep to find them tough.
I was feeling similar *blah* last January - and found a much happier version of me to bring back home from a week in Aruba. She's stuck around since. We like her - and know where to find her again when she runs away.
Not being facetious here, but maybe it is time to have your surgery? A few days in the hospital, the only responsibility you have being to take care of YOU. No one can cop out because you are in the fucking hospital. Give it some thought.
I totally get where you're coming from. Maybe you and Ty can get away for a long weekend without the kids...preferably on a dive boat with Captain Morgan on board.
Oh honey, I am right there with you. I have needed to post and just can not make the words come.
I wish someone could get together a group of moms who would be willing to step in for each other so one mom could take a sick day or a mental health day when needed. Hang in there!!
I've been doing the same silent treatment with people. Unfortunately it has also included silence on my blog.
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