Please help me

I had a lottery ticket and believed it would set me free
Free from my fears
Free from my worries

I am so tired of the unknown and the to little control
To much fear
To much indecision
and to little enjoyment with life

I have hopes in a lottery ticket.
I have that feel,
that this on is the winner, not the big winner because that was announced now, almost 6 months ago.

Procrastination and fear has been my constant companion these past months.

With superstition as my guide I know I need to wait to turn in the ticket.

Wait for the right moment otherwise it will be Jinxed and turn into a losing lottery ticket.

I need to wait for a time,

a time when  it was not too cold
a time when it was not too hot
a time when i was not feeling lonely, but was alone.
a time when I was not in a hurry to get somewhere.

I had imagined it would be a Sunday afternoon, when the stress of last week had finally subsided and the worries of the week yet to come had not yet taken control of my mind.

but that devil companion "Bad Luck" ruined every possible moment to turn in my winning lottery ticket.

and so,... the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and the one ticket turned into many.

Each of the tickets calling to me to cash them in at the right time, the right day, the right moment.

Then as if my magic stone had come back to me,...
the stars aligned and I finally had the right weather, and the right day, and the right time, and the stress of last week had subsided, and,..
and I was on my way to cash in that first lottery ticket.

And in my mind FEAR came to life.

Fear whispered to me, in such an evil tone, "maybe none of these are winners"

My superstition tried to combat such a horrible thought, and I searched my mind trying to remember if in the past few months, had I let a black cat cross my path, or walked under a ladder, or broken any mirrors, or stepped on a crack in the side walk,  and I,  ...  I am sure none of those things happened.

I still have my four leaf clover, I once spilled salt, but immediately threw a pinch over my left shoulder,  heck I even know that I left the house wearing clean underwear every day, and I did the dishes every night, and just to make sure the ticket was a winner, I even made my bed every morning....

But my fear forced me to turn back, and morn the loss of the winning lottery ticket I may have in my hand.

My worry so great and I see time slipping away, I ask myself "What if I miss the deadline?"  how horrible will I feel knowing I had a few thousand dollars but lost it because time ran out before claiming the prize?

The thought of losing just because I did Nothing, is to great to bear...

I Wish I NEVER bought these DAMN lottery tickets.

Feeling helpless about the imagined loss, my superstition becomes almost totally powerless and fear forces me into an abyss of utter loneliness and soul destroying regret.

The soul destroying regret of doing NOTHING Paralyses me.

Like I'm in a straight jacket in a padded cell, with no attendant to hear my calls for help.

with no one to confess my sins, I stay locked up in a cell of my own creation.

The "what if" of not knowing if I won or lost is KILLING me.

I don't know what to do...

Someone please tell me what should I do...

Anyone...

how do I take the next step

how do I STOP?

Stop the doing nothing?

how do I stop the paralysis ?

how do I stop the fear?

how?

Someone please help me!

Drunk and all alone

And it does not matter, at least not now.

The shattering moment by an unknown assailent
innocence lost
friendships betrayed

when I started this journey
it was so important to be heard
to have another pity me for how i hurt
And To be selfish every moment because I was a horrible person.

but then I grew
it became more important
to feel what you felt
to boost your self esteem
to be there for you.
to help
to be with
to try
to honestly care

Honestly care

Honestly

It does not matter now!

I tried,  tried so hard and so may times
tried to be good
tried to be true

when you called  me at 2am stranded, I was your first call,
and  I thank you all from the bottom of my soul for trusting me.

I have spent so many hours and have
grown so much to be who I am today

I am human and have my problems, but I tried

tried
Tried to fix them
Tried to be at peace with them
tried to put them aside,....

Put my problems aside because I hoped I could turn my life around

Put my problems aside because, although I did not know there would be a you in my life,

I knew you needed someone to listen to you,
and help you,
guide you,
or just be with you when you did not want to be alone.

i have hours of navigating through peoples problems late at night and early in the morning in so many different coffee shops, just because that is the time someone needed a friend to talk to.

I think people called me because they knew i would answer,
knew i cared and
knew they could trust me,

funny, "trust me" is 3000 miles away from where I started my adult life.

Some people saw the journey and hold my past against me,
some only know me now and can't believe how messed up I was.

most people, I think,,.. I hope... are Okay with who I am today.

but all  my insecurities still haunt, and  I wonder, ....
if there is anyone,.. I can call at 2:am when  I need to talk. ....?

but that does not matter now

and my journey from 3000 miles ago to now does not matter.

Because,

because, In the time it takes to jump to conclusions, or
Place a phone call, or

in the shattering moment that it took  the drunk to run a red light and crash into my car.

I..

I, am now dead,
and,
and my dear friends,
I have died all alone.

the clock turns 11 minutes into a month

And the stark reality is i am lying.

11 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

I live in my world of art, but my art is shades of white.

I say the hard surface of my art are not shades of white but a beige color, juxtaposed the white walls.  And the wool, sparingly strewn to only the upper corner is a natural white, which is not quite beige, and certainly not white.

13 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

And the broken shards of my art on the ground are not white either.

I am lying.  They really are shades of white.

I live in a state of emptiness that I have created, and don't know if I want to escape.

my shades of white are just a way to make you think I am okay.

I am okay because my art can mean, to you, that I live in the light,

White is Light, .... right?

I am lying to myself that the white "I create"  is light.

17 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

Light is such a happy place, full of warmth and love.

Warmth and love, like from a mom

my mom's love shown with exactness and rigidity.
and her warmth is like hot soup on a 110 degree day.

mom's love full of condescending tones and words of intolerance.
and warmth is the lesson, my scarred hand remembers all to well about how the stove can sear your flesh.

23 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

so my hard surfaced art is unyielding and when pushed to hard breaks leaving shards on the floor.

11 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

I look at my watch and see it has been 11 minutes, and I jot it down, I will need to know this.

But maybe it is too late,.....

I, now a month ago, decided that I am Okay and do not need the highly conditional love from my mother, but now every show on TV and conversation I hear is about mothers.

.
.
.


A month ago it started,
-- I did not call her, for one day -  I always needed to call her, she did not call me.

Somehow the phrase "the phone works both ways", never entered her mind, when it came to me........

 She knew how to use a phone to call her friends.

She knew how to use a phone to call my sibling.

So one day a month ago I did not call her.

7 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

the first day was hard, not because of love, but because of habit.

By day four, I felt my heart sink a little, and decided to let the silence exist.

Let the silence exist

The rigidity of our love, would surly survive a few days, and I, like her, know how to be resolute and unyielding.

Day ten was a Sunday, a holy day for some.
For some families they have rituals like "big breakfast",or "football", or "laundry day"-

For me day ten was the second Sunday not interrupted by a two hour long, one sided conversation that leaves me feeling insecure, incompetent and depressed.

a mom's love shown by pointing out all the mistakes I made the previous week, comparing me to everyone else she knows, belittling the only thing in life that lets me be me.
and a warmth that is the ice cold exhale of  disapproval, when I try to defend myself from her emotional assaults.

29 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

Today is a month later and she has not called me, my sibling ask whats up, but I say nothing.

They would not understand that for me the phone does NOT work both ways.


Today, I hear echo's in my head of time passing, 11 minutes, 17 minutes, 5 minutes.....

How odd I think these minutes,...

 and then I become aware that these echos are the number of minutes between each thought of my mother.

A month ago today, I let silence exist, and today I become keenly aware that the first 11 minutes has turned into a month.


And the TV shows a movie about a mother and abandoned-child reconciling.
And a co-worker has to leave work early and catch a flight because her mother has passed away.
And news shows an nine and eleven year old taken away from their mother for neglect.
and...
and...

And I met a man, today, who did not cry when his mom died,.....  it took him years to realize his guilt was not about the lack of tears but  Only because society says you are supposed to miss your mom, and he does not.
and..
and,..

53 minutes (said inside my head as an echo)

and I wonder how long I will let the silence exist.