Back from The Triangle!

Deep within the swirling mists of the unexpected, the ridiculous, and the frightening...I have wandered and witnessed...but I have thrust my head above the absurd discombobulation that has been my life for the last six months in order to deliver this missive.

I am alive!

I have not been lost forever to the realm of the vanished...banished...the displaced. It's been an undeniably tenuous hold on sanity and, with ragged nails dug deep into my own flesh, I have held on to...me...my animus...my self.

My father has raced into horizons where none of us can follow. I can wish for years, months, or even days and hours, but nothing I, or anyone can do, will bring my father back for things that were left undone, places that were left unseen, or things that were left unsaid. His days are filled with missions that only he can understand, with events that only he can see, and conversations that only he can carry. People with opinions, and suggestions, about how we should care for him, and where he belongs, are literally 'a dime a dozen'...both in quantity and value. But, that is for another blog (soon I promise). For those of us who live with this every day, and love him more than any other person on earth, our choices are neither light nor easy. I hate that the man I knew has been reduced...to this shell. I am full of longing for the strength I once saw, the wisdom that used to glimmer in his eyes, and the laughter that used to brighten up his face. But, I know that he is not coming back. His course is his own now...I only hope that he flies it straight and true, and that the sunset is unforgettable.

My mother is almost as lost to me as he is. Her descent into the madness that is consuming her frustrates and angers me. I cannot understand it! Does she truly not know how disconnected she is? Does she honestly believe that none of us see her instability? Or, does she just not care? We need her...here! We cannot tumble down the rabbit hole with her...or stand by and watch her slip away to the Mad Hatter's tea party. I feel like we are throwing life saving line after line as she simply treads water at a slower and slower pace. Sinking into a sea of blackness without so much as a reach out to the help we so desperately need her to grab onto. I don't know what my mother's future holds...but I hope...I hope for more.

I know this isn't much, dear reader. I know that you all deserve more. I can only say...that I am here. That I am making my way through it all. That the book is still being written (chapters 2 and 3 are on their way). That tomorrow dawns another day and that dreams allow escape each and every night. I am glad that there are those of you who are still with me...and I am grateful for those brief and oh so precious words from you who are my anchor...my home.

More soon...I PROMISE!

Sara Jade Woodhouse