The door cracks open and grimy shoes are placed off numb feet onto a mat whose greeting doesn’t exactly represent how one feels in this cold, hard house: welcome.
Internal family affairs including me and my inability to stop my pall with my abuses
and my brother and his selfishness and the list goes on and on longer than an entire novel could hold- longer than The Grapes of Wrath, and Of Mice and Men combined:
Steinbeck would be proud of my narrative on depression and family and how the two coincide, over-lap and join. Locked doors and a mother crying hysterically like a little kid.
The glue that held everything together is no longer effective anymore; like wet velcro, until you realize what once held everyone together was broken internally, itself, all along.
A cracked Liberty Bell,
A leaning Tower; it's strong but needs fixing.
It's imperfect like everyone/everything else...worn out from human beings worst enemy: time.
So when I rest my head and my eyelids close and my brain creates other worlds for me...well that's when I'm most elated. Visions of youth and grandma and amethyst and topaz and coral reefs of all colors and most of all: the inability to be hurt...and have true feelings. It makes life seem like the science of Sexology: like an unnecessary subject to be so thoroughly studied, when all one has to do is go to sleep and everything is put into its place.
And you wake up and you apologize to whoever you fought with, and you hug them and let them know that nothing they could do or say would ever take away the fact that you love them and always will; that one true fact, that one emotion we can all honestly say we have felt for another human being at least once in our lives, and that usually, normally, never completely dies.
And that, in the end, is family, and friendship. As much as it's turmoil, and sadness, and anger, and depression, and it seems like everything is botch...you gotta insinuate (very very slowly), putting things back together again (after a nice sleep), and you can't shirk..it takes effort...it takes time. Disputatious yeah, families will argue.
But no human being bothers to argue with anybody unless they care for them.