Imagine My Scream

I imagine a cry erupts from my lips. My wolf mouth howls into the night, wailing and shrieking, it pierces the clear sky. I imagine the limbs of the trees tremble, shaking the leaves to the ground. I imagine the squirrels hear it, causing them to scurry up the trees, cheeks bursting with acorns. It comes from deep within, from the pit of my soul cradled warmly in my gut, rumbling, empty, hungry, wanting.  I imagine it takes flight, the wings of my scream catching the bitter wind and soaring above the city. I imagine the feelings and the cries that I release are one entity,  it soars into the wild, gently held by a hawk’s razor sharp claws. My shrill cry competes with the city’s disparate monologue, crashing into the city sounds. Into the engines humming, the horns blaring, the sirens singing, the people talking, the music thumping. It travels endlessly unheard, seeking a destination, a new home, not wanting to return to the lungs from which it was born.  I imagine this cry as I stand here silently.

Today my husband was supposed to do the rehab phone screen and finalize plans to go in,  which has gone from a bed on the 17th, this upcoming Monday, to a bed between the 17th and 19th. Today he called and left a message as well as 2 follow up phone calls with no return call. Now it is the weekend and no one from admissions is there until Monday. Oh the agonizing purgatory I inhabit, every day he is not there, fearing relapse. The waiting is excruciating. I feel like my heart is in a dryer being tumbled around and around in a never ending cycle. And I am so just so damn tired.

munch-scream

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15 thoughts on “Imagine My Scream

  1. I gotta tell ya you have some how sucked me into you world. My wife and I will most certainly be praying for you and your husband especially during the weekend. But The squirrel with the bursting acorn cheeks and purgatory . . I, I, I don’t know. I think your anguish produces excellent writing. I don’t know how much you wrote before, but don’t stop, you got something there.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes well, there in the midst of you therapy is a prolific writer trying to break free. You are a natural. Some folks to to school for years to try and learn what is obviously inherent in you. Just for fun, take some of your experiences and subsequent emotions and apply them to a fictional story line and see what happens. You have a novel in you I know it:)

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Hang in there and take one day at a time. It’s completely reasonable to fear a relapse, but it has not happened. My first sponsor used to tell me not to live in the wreckage of my future — I can create catastrophe in my mind with the best of them but usually my worst fears don’t come to pass.

    Call them first thing Monday morning. Keep fighting for him to keep him fighting for himself.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Annette

    It’s like waiting for the news of a biopsy….interminable! It makes me mad when they don’t return calls in a timely manner. Each call made, at least in our situation, is a miraculous victory. A leap toward grabbing at sustaining their lives. There has to be a hand reaching out on the other end. I don’t know how you feel about God, but I’m going to praying that your husband will take a deep breath, and just rest this weekend knowing that there is a plan bigger than any of us, even when we don’t see it or understand it. ((((Hug))))

    Liked by 1 person

    1. (Hug back) you are so right, it’s interminable. Desperation is also present. It’s very difficult to watch him fight and feel like there isn’t the lifeline there when he, we need it. Especially when it’s a life and death situation. Lots of unconventional praying happening over here.

      Like

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