Me, Middle and Madness

It is rare that I ascribed my to things. If used, it would be with lesser known people to clarify a relationship that needs to be understood. So excessive use of MY in social media where relationships are known suggests that something-else is going on --- my dog, my girls, my husband, my house, or my friend.  All my life I have used the word my in affiliation with ideas and feelings.

I can share ideas and feelings and in the process experience something new. I like this part of life very much.  It seems to be very central to what life is about in fact.  But things and people have been described as ours: Our Home, Our Children, Our Community Service, Our future plans. Our has been family. Suddenly I am challenged to say Our in any context.  I must admit that it is very disorienting to have the paradigm of daily life change. 

I watch the Big C on Showtime and see the characters try to assimilate the idea of death. In this story there is real change. I wonder if I should try to treat my awareness that trust is not a viable option as a disease. In doing so Do I need to relax or release my ideas and feelings about trust? Without a clear answer, I linger in the middle of a vast numbness - inert. The advertisement "Depression Hurts" echoes in my head. Last night I dreamt of the one thing that would have made my current paradigm dilemma impossible (a child that belongs to our family); there no similar solution now.

So the voices in my head once again entreat me to focus, be productive, do things that you can declare as mine -- and in reality my day is planned to be anonymous and that plan starts now.