404 Not Found

Huge searchlights are going off in my skull. I don't know what they are pointing to, but I guess they are there to advertise the blimp of depression that floats around inside my brain. I can't say if that blimp is floating around inside or outside of me or if it floats through walls. But here is some of the baggage it carries around:

It's been gray and overcast here for the past week
Both my kids are independent adults, off living their own lives, as they should--empty nest
I have no extended family
My friends don't understand me
My phone's been silent for a month and I don't have much to say to anyone
Ecological disaster is eating everything faster than a plague of locusts
Cretins who run the show look at everything through dollar signs lodged in their irises
Everything is seen in terms of "resources" to be used instead of sacred entities

I recently left a comment on another blog and realized that many things have yet to surface about my feelings as an adoptee. Here are a few realizations:

My life is basically a page that says: "404 Not Found." Death was at the end of my search, and with it a door sealed shut forever. The bad part is that I will forever be fantasizing about my nmother, grasping on any straw that might support my fantasy that she could do no wrong, etc. because I'll never really know the truth.

I stuffed it when my afather died because he was the first to go and it felt like another abandonment. I was devastated. Then I felt nothing when my agrandparents died and nothing when my amother died. I learned how to feel numb. I'm really good at that. At the same time, I know that if anything were to happen to either of my two daughters that I would implode into an infinite wound.

Well, time to get back to my daily routine so I can write a bit and curl up with Anne Lamott. She happens to comfort me like the mother I don't have, only she's just words in a book.

Oh, I almost forgot. I launched a bit sutton today, my second blog. Sutton veers away from the ghastly turmoil of being an adoptee into the screaming part of me that thinks too much about the ghastly political turmoil that's eviscerating our lovely planet.