3/29/17

auto-correct



Today I'm sitting in my office, which is open and sunny, trying to work through a pain that threatens to level me to the ground.

I'm trying to be mindful, everyone tells me to "sit with it." Let the pain exist inside you without trying to push it away.

So I sit with it. I realize it isn't just pain, it's fear. I feel adrenaline course through my veins and pool in my hands. It is hard to type.

My marriage ended.

I joke about it. I tell people about the strangers I meet online and shrug, "I'm dying alone."

One time, my phone auto-corrected "alone" to "alive."

I'm dying alive.

Bad news: I'm dying. Good news: Not like that—feeling vital organs slowly fail one by one, feeling pieces of me grow weak from disuse, a body unrecognizable but lauded for it's ability to endure. Not like that.

Not today, not in my office.


5 comments:

Michelle Glauser said...

"My marriage ended." :( I'm sorry.

Vapid Vixen said...

Oh no. Stephanie. I'm so so sorry.

Russell Bertrand said...

Stephanie I am crying for you as I read this and sending you love even if you don't know me you know me, another poet, another survivor

Breanne said...

I'm so sorry Stephanie. I don't have words to help, but I am thinking of you.

Sage said...

That is terrible. I am sorry.