SOMETIMES I, TOO, NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO
by Gloria Brown Bates
Not For Sale
Not For Sale
SOMETIMES I, TOO, NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO... I'M GLAD YOU ARE HERE
January 04, 2012
I was thinking about colors... I always think about colors. Colors to me are words, paints, stories... colors are everything to me.
You would wonder 'why' you don't see me wear alot of colors anymore. People who have only known me for the last couple of years would never know how I love colors... until they hear me talk.
That's because I've thought of something today when I was writing my friend. I was writing to her and looked again at what I'd written and realized how true it was! I was so excited to come here to write about it. I've figured out something about myself!
I'm more colorful 'inside' than I am outside. I'm not wearing colors like I used to... but, I'm still thinking them. I realize that I miss wearing my happy colors. I will have to do something about that!
I've been choosing everything I wear in mostly navy blue colors and black colors. I think I understand 'why'... it represents the terrible sadness and grief inside my heart... though, I doubt many people know that. I don't speak of it unless in a conversation I feel I have to. I think the colors reflect my pain... I'm sitting here trying to 'feel why' I wear all dark colors.
Navy blue, dark blue shirts and pants, and sneakers.. that seems to have become my colors.... because that's all I've felt for so long. I realize I'm sad that I've become so 'dull'... I 'see' how I've contributed to becoming 'old'... and 'why' I haven't been able to 'find myself' in the mirror. I've been 'lost'.
Sometimes... though, I can 'see myself'. That makes me happy! I would hope to recognize 'me' in my mirror... again! To see my own happy smile and twinkling eyes.. again. I miss that! I wouldn't ever feel vain again or have love affairs with my mirrors. I would appreciate just to recognize 'me' instead of seeing just an older woman in the mirror. I think I can! I think I can find myself! I will be letting you know all along... my progress.
Those dark colors followed me on my path making it impossible to 'see where I was going'..... when my son, my only child, died.
Tommy, my precious son.. I just can't believe you are gone. The colors of grief... black, black, darker black.. so dark, just so scary dark. I'm glad my path has sunshine on it now. I was so 'lost'.
It's been a long journey to get back 'here'... and I have been seeing colors on the 'outside'. I've been painting, drawing for the past weeks... the colors are like putting a very cosy, warm blanket over me when I'm so cold... so cold to the bone. I feel warm now.
I've begun writing and I can't stop. I've tried in the past only to become so bored with it. I've tried to get Skip, my husband, to write... now, he's the one who has perfect grammar, and writes business letters and can talk on anyone's level.
November 02, 2010... I began a blog as I've done numerous times ...only to forget it after I wrote a couple of sentences. I couldn't write... besides, it's Skip who should write... that was in my mind. I love his writing... and he hasn't begun to seriously write...yet.
On this day, the 2nd of November... the first few entries are so boring... but, I began. I thought that I was going to do like always. I can't tell you the times I've become 'lost' when I came to write here. A wonderful, happy 'lost'... I haven't stopped writing yet. I find myself hurrying just to get to my computer to write, I feel such excitement.
I hope to accomplish one book about 'me', my life. I would want my grandchildren Taban and Taylor (McKenzie) to each have a copy to read about their 'Granny Gee'. They aren't going to have opportunity in this life to know me as a person. My words will be more powerful to reveal me as a person to them.... I write more than I talk.
No one sees any of the 'good' things I do... because I go on to forget them.. and never find it important to tell anyone. I can write all these things... and it's different. Each time I'm telling a story... it's a true story for them to read. They will 'see me' better ...than knowing me in person.
I will say I regret not getting to know each of them... they are precious and I 'know' Tommy is there in each of them... but........... sadly.... that part of Tommy won't know or recognize as someone they love. That's a part of my son... that's broken and... 'gone'. I won't write about this... for now.
Strangely enough... my whole life has been like this from the time I was 9 years old.... I've had to cope with loss of the closest people I loved... no, not from death. I was torn from the home and comforts I knew... to be thrown away to live at my poor Grandma Alma and George's home. It was horrible, I'd never known life like that, nor was I ever at the mercy... of so many people, and so much anger. It created anger in me that is still here ...today.
The anger has been in me for years... I don't strike out to hurt others, maybe I should have. I do try to channel it in a 'good' way... I don't always do good at this... I know depression only too well. I don't like to hurt others with words or actions. I have had to do this from time to time in my life... I feel I was justified, most of the time. There were times, I wasn't.
Skip calls me 'one angry white woman'.... laughingly. We liked the movie 'Diary of a Mad Black Woman'. I told Skip I was born angry. It's not the mean and evil anger you hear about that's seen on the news... and on one of my favorite shows 'Criminal Minds'.
I'm not evil... I'm so glad, I don't think I could live with myself if all I could do was to inflict pain on someone. I love to make people happy.. I love to give and if I were rich...... alot of dreams would come true.
When I say alot of dreams would come true.... I don't mean frivolous dreams. I mean real dreams of the everyday person who wishes for something so simple as a new refrigerator, a 'new' car, a new stove, clothes for children, groceries.... things they deserve but, don't have the money for. All they need is a helping hand to get past a hurdle.
I would want to be the helping hand... but, not tell everybody. My wish would be for them to just simply... pass it on. My feeling is if everyone did this... the world would be a better place.
I don't believe in hoarding and having things others need or wish for... you'll never use them... give them to someone and feel the warmth of their smile. Having things stacked and piled up doesn't give off warmth like a thankful smile. Not only that... I believe that giving ... helps your heart. Think about how much emotion you feel when you get angry or happy... the 'happy' does your heart good, the anger kills it. I work on my anger all the time... I have to, I need more happiness in it to heal it, the anger and sadness from Tommy's death 'almost' got me.
I speak frankly now, about my son's death. I face it head-on now, and I'm determined to get to a point in time to where I can talk about him, say his name and at the same time... not feel the overwhelming grief and pain that threatens my whole being. When I speak of him 'now'.... I 'feel' so strongly inside such emotions , I'm sure on the outside I seem to be alright... why should I mess your day up with my grief? I won't, I promise. I keep things to myself and if I suffer, I suffer in silence.
I will say this about writing... I've found what I needed to do all along... now, I can voice what I feel and think. I can talk to you and share what I've learned or wish, or dream. If you don't want to listen, it's okay. If you do, that's wonderful... sometimes I find I do need someone to talk to, just like you do. I'm here, and I can listen, too.
The good thing here is that if you don't want to listen, to read... maybe later, you'll be glad to see me again and I might have something you'll like to hear or if you see I've been through something you are experiencing... see that someone else knows how it feels.
You know how it is... not everytime are we interested in what our friends have to say when we see them... it's nothing personal. It may be nothing's happening. They don't get offended, you don't get offended.
I've enjoyed talking to you this morning... see you tomorrow. :))) I'm glad you are ... here. You mean the world to me.
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Hello Gloria. I'm sorry, too, for the sadness you have experienced in your life. I can relate to your relationship with colours. Please treat yourself to something exciting like a multi-coloured scarf, and when you wear it, you will feel 'alive' when you see your reflection and for just the sake of wearing it! I do like your easy-to-digest paragraphs; they're like diary entries - a progression of your feelings and experiences. I look forward to reading more from you : ) xx
I'm so sorry about the loss of your son and the "navy and black" it brought into your life. You, who love colors so much! I'm glad you are seeing colors again and finding yourself in the mirror. I have no doubt God is glad too. He made colors and I'm sure He appreciates it when people notice how wonderful they are. I'm glad you are writing. I was happy to listen. Sometimes I need someone to talk to too. God bless!
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