i'm healing up at a remarkably fast pace. my fat leg has begun to unswell, slightly, and the bruises are slowly beginning to fade. the cuts on my back and everywhere else are scabbing and falling off. i think i've begun to look better than i feel. i feel so tired and breakable. i'm tired of being the strong one. i know that by surviving, not only am i lucky, but the incident indirectly sends me the message that i'm not done here yet. so i refuse to fail because i know i'm not done with life here. but i'm tired of being strong. it doesn't mean i'm going to falter and stop being strong. i'm just tired. of leading, of looking forever calm and in control. sometimes i wish i can shed some light on how i really feel inside, but i know it will never happen because that's just me. strong, calm and in control. i just wish someone can hold my hand and lead me for a bit.
it's like the past two weeks are part of a surreal experience and not part of my life. i still can't make myself truly believe that vicky has passed away, that vicky is not coming home. when i dream, it's mostly of her and me just hanging out. and then when i wake up, i get the oddest feeling because it's only then that i remember that she's never coming back. i've started crying myself to sleep. it's unintentional but i think about her and i remember all the good times we had together and i just miss her so much more.
-cat
About Me
- Elaine
- my name is elaine but it's been ellie to some people. to my family it's cat thanks to my affinity to chowing fish. i've been called dead bird..though i've never gotten a real explanation for the nickname further than a comment on my petite stature, my need to wander and the fact that i was sick at the time it was bestowed. i've gone under the names alice and rosie. my favorite color is gray because i can't decide if i like white or black better, and i love drinking tea, baking and painting.
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