I've been going through old pictures and writing the info on the back of them before I forget. It's been more bitter than sweet, to say the very least. I see all of the things that were captured on film, and I watch in horror as one component after another fades from view. People, places, things...all of them vanishing before my eyes like dinosaurs vanishing from the Earth...erased as if they'd never existed. It's terrifying.
It makes me question my very existence...I feel so detached, so out of place now that my parents are dead. I have absolutely nothing to show for my life...no husband, no children, no career. Just an illness that isolates me when I need people the most, and memories that conjure up horrific dreams and crippling grief. I have curled up in a ball and am just waiting for the day when they come for the house...until they come and take every last piece that I have left of my family away from me...
I look at the pictures of me as a little girl and I think...'What a waste. All of the things that you could have been, and this is what you've been reduced to...a mentally-ill, childless spinster who will never know love'. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I had not been subjected to the daily violence and cruelty that has been the staple of my life thus far that I would have been a very different woman indeed. All of the hopes and dreams that little girl had have been crushed beyond repair, dashed against the jagged rocks of reality. What do you do when you realize your whole existence has been pointless...when you realize that no one will ever need you or love you again? No one...ever...
I have a story to tell...but what good does it do when there's never anybody around to hear it? I know I'm a good writer, but sending stuff into the great gaping maw of cyberspace where it's immediately sucked into a void and never seen by anyone isn't going to help. I am not cooking my way through Julia Child's cookbook. I am trying like hell to find a reason to keep on living, to find a purpose. I thought writing was it, but I see that I'm sadly mistaken. There are too many other people out there that are so much better at it than me. I disappear in a sea of trillions before anyone can see how good I really am.
Oh well, back to writing info on the pictures. At least when I'm dead and gone, people will know who or what is in them.
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