Thankful

Sunday,

a day off of work.

A visitor at a church

full of life, faith, and connections.

Misguided on some principles.

Just a thought.

You know, perhaps, just a bit.

My own ride

is freedom on wheels.

Safety in expression.

My music,

my feels.

Returning to home,

this church, my family,

make me feel both embraced

and unseen?

But singing together,

my walls can come down,

And walking toward communion

eye contacts make smiles abound.

My heart is full,

yet my mind is confused.

Security is alerted;

My soul is contorted.

Reassured I belong, my mind quiets down.

I let myself rest.

Spiritual health can be a mess.

Mondays are work

in retail and school.

My head hurts,

my body aches, "Slow down, slow down!"

The only way out is through,

so I make my appointments.

I stay in the moment;

I'd rather rejoice later than drink poison.

I hear from my therapist,

I hear from my friends,

I go to Yoga,

I return to my bed.

Tuesdays are repeats;

more opposite action.

I try to try softer;

hey, it's not too bad.

Between class I receive a note from a friend,

"You don't love Jesus

Repent or be damned!"

It hurts. It does. It hurts in my heart.

I can't go back home or I'll fall apart.

Instead I turn left and get lost downtown.

I find a park to pull over;

leftover lunch I set out.

I cry out to God;

He answers from within,

"We're good. You're loved.

So don't you worry.

I'm sad, downright mad, but I've got a plan.

Yes scripture enriches; it shouldn't be used as a weapon.

Use it instead to live out my love.

Together we're stronger. Together we're proud.

There's lots of work to be done,

More people to be found."

Wednesday, I catch a break,

The morning off work.

I use it to refuel my soul

inside the church with the olds.

I love them. I do. How they love one another.

They're thoughtful and curious.

They poke fun,

and say prayers,

And they want to love just like Jesus.

I know God is proud; I feel His heart flutter.

Then, aside with my Pastor

She cares just as much

She's jolly and frustrated

A true, human, is that one.

Then, off to the doctor's.

"You have bpd? Man that's rough.

I think we are close...nearly there!

Let's try this next pill; it might make things better."

On the road yet again, I head to the campus.

More classes, an interview.

De Beauvoir's got it right

Dialectics in life

She's a pre-Linehan,

who's also a me

Can I please, oh please, get another opinion?

Does anyone else see the connection?

After that I head

down the road just a bit

To game night, new friends. This group mirrors POP.

I feel so lucky.

I glance over to one

They smile and my heart turns to putty.

I try not to think, I try not to dream.

It's so goddamn hard, they're just too darn lovely.

I stay out too late,

I fall right in bed.

I miss taking my medication

which really messes with my head.

Thursday hits like a brick.

I'm up but I'm down.

I start a load of laundry, take that med,

fall back to the ground.

I arise two hours later,

head straight out the door.

It's a TMS day;

I'm excited!

And then there are four:

Two doctors, the technician, and I.

It's become quite the party.

I just wanted to watch Titanic

and commentate lightly.

"Okay, adjust, be flexible," I say

The electric tapping ends and I'm back on my way

Then therapy,

O therapy,

How wonderful is this hour.

It's over too quick. We had a helpful agenda.

When can I see her in person someday?

But our time, our relationship, it is a gift.

Its realness is valid. Thank goodness for it.

At school I arrive late.

I put in my time.

I take my exam.

Then, I leave on a dime.

Tonight's activity is dinner, followed by swing dance.

I'm so nervous. I dread it. Might it be excellent?

Dinner is yummy. It's good to be with them.

Our time's never rushed.

They're all so cool... Where did they come from?

Regardless, I'm glad, and

my blessing continues as we march up the steps.

Uh, swing dancing? Here?

But this must be the place,

For sitting among extravagance is a Pomeranian on a pillow case.

The instruction was good. The idea of it fun.

But dancing with men sends my body wanting to run.

I stayed. I used skills. My friends checked in too.

When it was time to leave,

one lead me back to my car safely.

I needed that.

On the drive I called my sister,

who had a band of friends to give some advice,

"They're probably tout-a-vous

but who knows?"

But who knows?

Ugh.

Uncertainty is hard. It's uncomfortable, uncharted.

I hope it pays off. I know that it will.

Time and patience aren't my strong suit;

but I can and it's worth it.

I suck at rhyming.

It sounds better in my head.

I left out some other important details,

Like lunch with a friend,

Texting another,

And sharing my writing with an editor:

"You've got talent kid! Keep writing! Your story must be told!"

How reassuring. This could go somewhere!

My life direction is finally in alignment.

My parents have been supportive,

being queer

and writing

and mostly of me overall.

My mom walked my dog

and my dad finished that laundry.

I can breathe. I can pause.

Right here and right now.

Thank God for my life.

Thank God for my friends.

Thank God for my talents.

Thank God for my mind, my health, and my spirits.

Thank God for medication.

And thank God I haven't yet met my end.