I had a plan, but now I haven’t. 

I had a path, but now there is none. 

 

I am floundering, unsure, without purpose, skilled for something I’ll never be. 

 

Now what?

Why?

Who?

Where?

How? 

 

An undefined purpose.

Searching for meaning where there is none.

Alone in the darkness of grief and a life unfulfilled. 

 

A whole lifetime ahead of me but for what? 

 

Struggling, yearning.

Angry, jealous, resentful and bitter. 

 

Acting as if… but for what purpose? 

 

Rage bubbling underneath this facade.

Fleeting moments of joy are weighted with sadness. 

 

I have lost my anchor.

I am drifting on an uneasy tide.

Lost, unfulfilled, abandoned.

Alongside others and yet alone. 

 

Monthly tsunamis of grief dismantle my controlling existence.  

 

I look to nature for solace and reassurance but there’s no lasting comfort.

What is contentment?

What is meaning? 

 

I yearn for a peaceful life but I am not a peaceful person.

I am fire, focus and determination. 

 

A powerful lion reduced to a tiny snail.

Carrying my shell of grief.

No long term home except the losses I have on my shoulders, and in my empty womb. 

 

Barren.

Like an infertile ewe destined for slaughter.

What else am I good for now? 

 

My inner pain is hidden until the cracks get too large and it seeps out again.

Then I stuff it back down until the next month. 

 

An endless cycle of pretence, fleeting pleasures, ongoing sorrow. 

 

And now?

Am I past my midlife?

Is this the downhill stretch?

How many more years will I have with this turmoil?

RC