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This is a BEAUTIFUL stem glass my Mother brought back for me from Isola Bella, an island in the middle of Lake Maggiore in Northern Italy.
After ONE …
yes..ONE use,
I successfully broke it!!
It safely made the journey from Italy to the US, from NJ to NC, and lasted about 20 minutes in my possession.
But it is a perfect example of a beautifully broken glorious disaster …. JUST.LIKE.ME
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“Maybe some people just like to be sick..” he said, as I was reflecting on how my lil small town medical office is like the “Cheers” of Rural NC.
Because when you are here…EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME because you are here
EVERY.
DAMN.
WEEK..
Because maybe some people just like to be sick.
Because maybe some of us only know how to exist in perpetual ‘recovery’…
BECAUSE…
Can you allow yourself to continue to break all over again, in their presence, knowing you will not accept their glue…and knowing the heartache you are causing as they watch your pieces crumble to the ground?
Or maybe when we break all over again together, our pieces get mixed up during the “clean up”…and we end up with some of the other’s pieces glued to ourselves ……
and together we become a magnificent collage o’ ruins…
….a BEAUTIFUL and GLORIOUS disaster.
And maybe its better to enjoy being simultaneously broken…revel in your glorious disaster-ness…
and not try so hard to glue each other back together again…
Because we are all RECOVERING ..
EVERY.
DAMN.
DAY.
whether its wounds from the day, week or years ago.
Some of us are just so much more “cool” about it….and don’t get their feathers ruffled, or their panties in a bind.
But there are some of us are who are a total DISASTER…running, and pedaling, and starving and punishing ourselves for being susceptible to such wounds in the first place.
Because sometimes my hands will literally tremble and shake as I try to get the food to my mouth. And I often wonder if my “clumsy” is just my subtle attempt to drop the food on purpose so I won’t have to eat it.
Or maybe I’m shaking and trembling because I drink COPIOUS amounts of coffee… 🙂
And maybe I need to stop drinking it black…and add a little creamer every now and then.
Because there are times when the starvation…like the black coffee..becomes too bitter…
And maybe the eating disorder doesn’t have to be SO DAMN SERIOUS all the time…
Because the funny thing about the eating disorder…is that its NOT about the food….
Its about protection..and survival.
And it is in the starving where I can find the answers.
Starvation helps to eliminate the unnecessary..strips me down to the core, and allows me to focus
on the most vital concerns…
like survival …
But maybe I don’t need to spend every day just “trying to survive”..
Maybe I can spend some days actually LIVING.
I can add a little bit o’ cream…and sit back and enjoy the beautiful and glorious disastrous collage I have created ..
until I break…
negativespacey.com 
I don't know whether to laugh or cry over your words, but you do make me realize I keep my wedding gift wine glasses hidden in the hutch so I have no chance of breaking one. But, is that living? Is that taking a chance? They are 41 years old! I will drink to you and hope you join us at the next TAF meeting.
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This post captured the part of me I so carefully try to keep intact and these words blew it apart. What an insightful way of expressing what one faces each and every damn day and YES to living! I vote for life!
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A beautiful, brave and raw piece. I love the idea of combining opposite words like broken and beautiful and using them together to describe life because you're right, that's exactly what it's like. We need more writers willing to be authentic about their inner life. Absolutely keep writing!!!!!
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