Posted by: scintillatingspeck | November 13, 2012


It’s strange to see how people react to me lately.  Maybe some of them are actually reading what I write?  I see concern in their faces, and some wariness, and question marks in the center of their eyeballs, and sometimes even a luminous, wordless intensity, a response I can’t quite fathom.  And always, there are comments about my blazing hair.  It feels a bit like a scarlet letter, somehow.  Does it show in my face, the fact that I’m altered inside?  Some focus narrowly on the current state of my father-in-law (who is receiving hospice care now, thankfully, and is currently able to be alert and reasonably comfortable, communicating and reminiscing with his wife and children)– I get the sense that some are hastily attributing all of my recent writing torrents and furrowed brow to this dying family member, and yes, it has affected me greatly, but see, it’s not the total of what’s going on for me.

I feel like there’s some kind of opportunity in this, some way to bypass the usual niceties and defenses of everyday life, some way to lead by example, perhaps, in crumbling around the edges a bit, being more outspoken about my vulnerabilities, showing that I’m still going, it hasn’t killed me, and I welcome it.  What kind of woman would welcome such a train of demons through the door?  I think I’d rather serve them a cup of tea and ask them to tell me about themselves than have them surrounding the house, bellowing and gnashing.  “So, Demon of Shame Baggage, how have you been?  Still flagellating yourself, I see.   And you, Demon of Brazen Truth, you’ve taken all your clothes off again.  Maybe you can have a chat with Demon of Social Withdrawal over here; she could use your help.  And you yipping dog Demon of Obsessive Thoughts, can I throw you a bone so you’ll stop your yammering?”  What a gracious hostess I am.

May grace prevail as the journey continues.



  1. You go, girl. I’d like to know if the demons have first names, and what they look like.

    • The demons are cryptic sorts; they have titles, but do not reveal their secret names, lest they be too well understood and possibly vanquished. They look like slovenly goths with flames shooting out of their ears and big, staring eyes.

  2. just letting you know i’m here, reading. xo

    • Marian, you made my day.

      • i wouldn’t have thought you were *that* easy to please 🙂

      • Oh darn it. Now you know how easy I am.

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