CROWN ME . . .

I know I'm a drama queen, more so than some, less so than others. But I'm still amazed at my own ability to fall into a tailspin, mentally, emotionally, physically, anytime something goes wrong, something goes awry, something falls off-kilter. A misplaced word, a misunderstanding, a moment of being ignored, a tiff, a turned-away shoulder, a word spoken with averted eyes, a deliberate indifference to my existence. I can't hug those I want to hug, I can't enjoy an evening out with friends, I can't swallow a meal without choking on the lump in my throat, I can't sleep for seeing images and visions beneath my eyelids that grow the boulder lying in the slowly-stretching pit of my stomach. The stress puts lines on my face, turns my lips downward, makes me stare into space like an unhappy zombie in a room full of bustling cheerful people, shakes my hands when I most want to give off the image of steadiness and self-control. The indigestion gives me diarrhea, the guilt gives me insomnia, and my damn memory and conscience give me bruises, kicking me again and again and saying "what the hell were you thinking? Couldn't you just have let sleeping dogs lie? Did you have to have the last word?" And mostly, the replay button in my mind and my ever-present pessimism gives me great amounts of fear ... wondering if forgiveness is real and if relationships really can ever be truly and completely repaired without condition and without scars. The worst part -- as if it could get any worse (says the drama queen) -- is that the most recent happiest of memories seem like they happened decades ago, and are already fraying at the edges like a beloved old photograph that is taken out of the album and gazed upon again and again.