I couldn’t post this on the actual night of the full moon. It was too raw. Being tied to the moon, as we all are, does get messy. For some folks, it’s not as big of a deal and for others it’s dire. The moon makes me mix up my real from my imagined. The harsh self-talk I’m constantly contending with gets center stage and I get sucked in. I was going to delete this but if it’s therapeutic for me to write down, maybe it’ll be therapeutic for someone else to read. There is some crass language and it’s super triggery (it’s a thing). I also didn’t end up alone the entire evening. A lovely neighbor invited me to her home for conversation and watching The Voice together. I got to snuggle a wee babe and have some company on one of the hardest nights in the month for me. She got to go to the restroom alone. I lucked out.

The original post:

Full moons fuck me up. I don’t always jump straight to that harsh a term for most things public and very few things privately. I think Cuss could sum it up most of the time. When it comes to full moons though…nah…FUCK is the only word that really captures the whole mess it makes. I used to love when the moon would get bigger. My body would tingle and everything would be brighter, louder, colorful and more intense. Most of the time that was exactly what I wanted. Then July 2014 hit and that Super-moon reaped havoc on the lives of so very many people. I still wake up drenched in sweat, remembering. It isn’t as bad as it used to be, sometimes I can go a while without really thinking about it. But that moon…it keeps bringing back the bad.

Now I check the calendar and send warning texts to the husband. We all know how things can get now so it’s best to prepare for the worst. Some worsts are worse than others. No matter how bright and beautiful the night becomes, I get trapped in the dark and ugly. Even the days leading up to the monthly event become stressful. Each month I wonder how I’ll be changed. Will the beast come out and will I howl and gnash my teeth and scare all of the village people away? Will I be enveloped in a haze and I keep wandering aimlessly until the fog clears and I can find my way back home? Will the darkness suck me in and push me down, suffocating and terrifying me? Who will I hurt and who will hurt me? I keep wondering how I can get back to finding the moon and her beguiling ways beautiful and magical again. Maybe not how…if. if. if. if. if.

I saw the bad moon rising this morning. I felt the trouble on it’s way. Each cycle adds another scar. Will this one be visible this time? I don’t want another one but I’ve come to expect it. Who will I be tonight? I’m alone this time. T is at his dad’s house, working through a rough patch of his own. D is in Cali, helping folks prepare for retirement. E went back to his bio-mom on Sunday. I suppose I have the dog. Mole’ can try and keep the beast at bay.

Those few blissful moments before I felt the collective screams of 1400 souls still taunt me. I still feel the empty place where a person used to be. I didn’t know him. I will never forget him.


Another full moon

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