Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Sunday, November 8, 2015
This is my Parents and my Grandparents story. Expulsion from Uganda and a new beginning in Britain. While my parents chose to then move to Canada, my sister and I were born in the UK because of this migration. I am so proud of this community, as they proved the resilience of the human spirit and ability to thrive in the hardest of times, even as refugees. Thanks to my brother for sharing this with me, it really touched me.
|Cynthia Angeles, “Grief”, oil on linen|
It would be impossible for me to ignore what I have become. After suffering the fate of a violent emotional betrayal and having chronic anxiety over power my life, I have stood by my own side and watched myself die over and over again. While I have learned to be more protective of myself, I realized today that I no longer have the emotional prowess and sensitivity that use to help distinguish me. I have spent the past few years hanging by a thread, with my health in so much disarray, I lost my souls way. I still don't feel the way back to myself, maybe hiding and isolating myself has drawn me away from the person I use to be, more than I would really like to see. Now I wonder, what is next? How do I free myself from myself in a way that allows me to respect my limitations and respond to what is best? What is best? I no longer want to be at war to survive through my illness, I no longer want to struggle to feel happy. I want to move away from all the feelings that haunt me and mostly, this debilitating anxiety that surrounds me.
If you saw me now, you would not recognize me. Of this I am sure. Tonight I realized I don't recognize parts of me anymore, some tender emotions that created beauty in me have become strangers, unknown. I am not sure of what to regain and what to let go.