In the 1970s, as I reached toward
what 'being a grown up' appeared to be,
and as my hopes of mature choice
kept retreating from me, one phrase
that I found to convey how I felt
repeated itself ad nauseam,
and took on a life of it's own.
I wrote about 'having mixed feelings',
to spare the shame of my family.
until I almost believed it.
Adding the word 'mixed' to 'feelings'
meant to me that what I felt was complex,
and explainable. 'Mixed' gave me a pivot
away from how impossible it was
to explain to myself, then family and friends
that surrounded me who always denied
that anyone's life could be that awful.
Decades later, through several therapists,
I found the words it was previously
impossible to spit out, and they cleansed me.
The unbelievable life became not only credible
but disposable as well, with sympathetic company.
No comments:
Post a Comment