TheBanyanTree: Random

[Monique Colver]

Dear Tobie,

My writing often starts with a thought, which may have nothing to do with me. The first sentence came to me, from someplace unknown. Maybe a glance in the mirror during one of my fugue states, or a glance at someone else's face, or from a picture I saw. I don't really know. It comes to me and then I wrote the rest when I stopped working for the day. 

It's not meant to describe me, but a universal condition, and I write because I cannot help but write when things are in my head. I can ignore them, and often do, but I've found it's best when I write. Besides, I am told my brain is dying and it's good to use it.

Come back from where? Why? Do you realize that I have Parkinson's and a damaged brain, and with that also comes a reluctance from others to see I'm the same person I always was? Except more so, because the outer part that holds my emotions in check has been stripped away - it wasn't that strong anyway. I'm mostly in a perfectly fine space, even if others don't think so. Sometimes I cry, but it's usually like a flash storm that comes and goes so fast there's no point mentioning it, and if I do people think I cry constantly. People don't see that I'm many things still. Sometimes I cry because I feel alone, and in that moment I know there is no one I can reach out to because there just isn't, so I keep it to myself. 

I never went anywhere to come back from, and where should I come back to? I'm changed, perhaps, but we all change. 

My writing is representative of me only in that I wrote it, and sometimes it's how I feel, but it's often fiction, made up of random thoughts and lines that come into my head. It could be a passing thought, or not. No one knows.

But you haven't seen me lately. One of the supports for my face has extensive termite damage, and another has dry rot. (That was just a joke.)

Love,

Monique
Sent from my iPad

> On Oct 19, 2019, at 10:57 AM, tobie at shpilchas.net wrote:
> 
> Monique dear,
> 
>    I’m probably not the only person here who read your post and was surprised that the person you were describing was not herself.  Though your situation is unique (I am unique just like everyone else), your feelings are universal.  They pass. And they come back. And they pass again. And then they come back. But they go away.
> 
>    They are always warranted and they are never accurate. They cannot be proven or disproved. They certainly don’t do any good. If anything, they perpetuate the insult. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that woman in the mirror and mourned her utter defeat. And then, damn it, she is deposed and someone more honest takes her place.  The real problem with me is that I feel like I’m deluded to see her go — either way.  My perceptions are stunning to see me crumpled and finished. My perceptions are revelatory to see me arriving in my heart again, relieved and awake.
> 
>    You are seeing what you feel, not who you are.  But you know that.  You’re still who you are. 
> 
>    Sweetheart, what can we do to help? Please come back.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Tobie 
> 
>    
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>> On Oct 18, 2019, at 8:41 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com> wrote:
>> 
>> Her face was crumpled in on itself, as if the foundation of a house had been removed, if her face was a house. I remembered her as she was, with a normal if average face, when she was younger and life hadn't yet beaten her up with enthusiasm and cruelty. She'd been something then, not pretty, but not minding, because she could still get what she wanted. She could still be in the world and get the attention she had once craved, but now, with her face crumpled and her eyes no longer bright but dark shadowy holes, she looked lost, as if unsure where it had gone, and so suddenly.
>> 
>> I never expected to see her like that, a ruin, time and fortune having had their way. I thought she'd outsmart them, I really did. She tried to smile back at me but it was half-hearted, and I saw none of her in it.
>> 
>> I couldn't look anymore, so I turned away from the mirror.
>> 
>> Monique
>> Sent from my iPad
>> 
>> 
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> 
> "It's a shame chaos requires such little maintenance" THS
> 
> 
> 
> Tobie Shapiro
> mailto:tobie at shpilchas.net <mailto:tobie at shpilchas.net>
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