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Compasses surrounded by iron filings

created by Chras4

(idea) by Chras4 (27 s) (print)   ?   (I like it!) 4 C!s Mon Aug 05 2002 at 17:04:45

"What am I supposed to do? What's going on?"
The old woman looks at her granddaughter with questioning eyes - bright eyes shining, but unsure. Memory fails her often these days.
"We're drinking our tea and eating snack now"
"Oh. thankyou. What's that big red car doing in the driveway?"
"That's my truck, grandma"
"Are you staying with us a while then?"
"Yes, a while"
"Oh good. that's nice"
It's the third time this conversation has danced between them.
"What am I supposed to do now?"
She holds up her empty plate of uncertainty. She is in a constant state of not knowing what will happen next.

She doesn't know what to do with herself.

"Mom, I'm bored."
I try to divert him but he's unresponsive.
"Nah"
He's got the "blahs". I know what ails him. His teen social circle is gone, POOF, just like that. Teens do NOT hang out with parents, they hang out with peers. They are forging new identities separate from their families. The sudden move has left him floundering without an anchor. He is missing his friends. He is in another state. He has no direction, unsure of where he will be from day to day. This is beyond his control.

He doesn't know what to do with himself.

She is in a state of shock three weeks into the separation after a 20 year marriage. Her definition of herself, gone. The social circle associated with her ex spouse, lost. Her whole identity associated with the marriage, severed. She is disconnected from all that she was. Choice becomes difficult for her. How can she possibly choose a dress if she doesn't even know who she is anymore? No firm identity. No idea what will occur from day to day. She is in limbo, unsure of her next move. Each choice replete with repercussions.

She doesn't know what to do with herself.

For a time, they are compasses surrounded by iron filings, the needle spinning with no direction.


printable version
chaos

Post-traumatic break-up syndrome The worst things about divorce she left her handwriting all over the calendar I don't want to be a weeping mass of emotion, but I am
I am not your fucking Employee of the Month separation anxiety You say you want to help me I feel things, hundredsfold, a papercut requires stitches
Just enough to catch a whiff of dying roses Puppy Pong identity crisis The Cassandralike experience of aging
Four and a Half Years of Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice iron fist a love letter expressly meant for your eyes only Terrible Swift Sword
proofread Squaring the circle We Just Disagree repercussion
Shock state separation separation distress
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