I feel you, and you, and you…

empathetic

 

[em-puhthet-ik]

adjective

of, relating to, or characterized by empathy, the psychological identification with the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of others:


Wound as tight as a clock can’t get my brain to shut up, or stop

Wearing a multitude of hearts on my sleeve no reprieve for I share their tear stained pillows. I cry myself to sleep in the billows of their pain. I feel all of you. 

I feel you, and you, and you. You are rot with anxiety, I feel you. You have no beat in your heart, I feel you. You can’t look at your own reflection in the mirror, in want to not vomit at your image. I feel you. 

You were abaonded by all whom you thought loved you. I feel you. You gave into your self inflicted pain. I feel you. 

You are grief stricken, and heart sick. I feel you, you lost yourself in this life (your wife). I feel you. You are living out of your car with 2 kids, and a dog eating maybe once a day clothes wreak of body odor and mildew. Your kids look at you with disgust, you are a drunk. I feel you. 

Your son who has struggled with a heroin addiction since 8th grade, filled that needle one last time found a vein for his sweet realease. He overdosed for the third time, this time his heart could not fight he was pronounced dead upon a cold sterile table while you were away on vacation. The call you received left you breathless. A piano prodigy gone with the prick of a poisoned needle. His bipolar mental state too much for him to endure. So his addiction was his pleasure. The amount of heroin found in him to high for measure. A beautiful man too. I feel you. 

Your parents never gave you the time of day, they made you feel small. They never gave you affirmation or love. They had the nerve to call their own child mentally ill. They belittled you until their last breath. They never made effort for amends. They left the world leaving with no mention of you. You long for to be adored, to what was always on their own accord. I feel you. 

You went to shave your husband in his vegetative state, hoping his eyes just might open. It had been a year since the tragic accident. You had a hard decision to pull the plug. His body gaunt, and not a hint of life. One of the neatest men this life has met. You his wife would go home alone, married to just a silhouette. The time had come to kiss him goodbye. Your body bled you of the tears you cried. I feel you. 

You got fired from your job today, and your wife can’t work. Your rent is due tomorrow, and you have no means to pay it. The government assists you, but you still can’t keep afloat. You are running out of life boats. I feel you. 

Your dad and mom are alcoholics, and you were lost in translation. You never finshed school, and don’t even know how to drive. Your dad and mom divorced, which for you cried and cried. You don’t know what it means to be man. Your life has not set forth a plan. You were never taught a work ethic. You were forced to grow up much before your time. You don’t want to get too close to anyone at the fear of loss. You show few your pain as you see no purpose. Suck it up, and push through you were always told. No hand to hold. I feel you. 

You were asked to drink of a bitter cup, and nailed to a cross. A crown of thornes embedded in your head. People mocked your words, and spat on you. You had nail pierced hands, and feet. No food or drink, lashings until you were beat and your dripped blood slowly stained your body. You bore the sins of world, and died so that those who believe could have life. You hung until your last words “it is finished”. You died upon the cross. I feel you. You gave me breath of life, and then new life. You are my creator. I marvel at your sight. For there is no greater of than the love you give to me. I feel you. 

I am wound tight as a clock, and share their tear stained pillows. It is okay, I am getting to understand the empathitist that is me. I wear each of their shoes for a time to know their pain. Some I have lived first hand. Compassion and grace meet with me daily to converse. I cry for each and every one of them. Pray for each of them. I have wished for its stop, but then I would lack for some of my greatest virtues of all…So the tears they can not stop. There are more to come, so it is time to replace my pillow. I feel you. 


Published by

Lisa Ralph, Cries from an unkempt garden

I write to tell my story of how I overcame self affliction, and great despair in this life. For I write to share the death to self that took place. That I may Glorify God in all I do. May my writings be a refelction of freedom, for I am no longer in captivity of self. May they be warm, and inviting. For I write because God has given me words that drip from my mouth to be seen.

2 thoughts on “I feel you, and you, and you…”

  1. The gifts we receive as a result of our pain. Things we never thought of as gifts.
    Like the ability to feel bad emotions and knowing everything is already alright.
    All we have to do is trust, believe and wait.
    Great post!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you very much. I actually have had every one of those lives I shared touch me. I know everyone in mention. Some are of my own even. I belive God has a purpose for everything under heaven. There is no chance. We can’t always see it right away. “The Mystery of God’s Will!”. Sometimes years later. Nonetheless there is reason for our trials and tribulations. Blessing!! Lisa

      Like

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