Fallout (I)

I see him sitting by the sea, feel his grief crashing down on him in waves.

I’m not the only one who lost my Father in all of this, and perhaps that’s the worst part of all–that both of us are going through the same thing.  For him this loss is just as shattering, though he’s told me their relationship had been strained long, long before this happened.  What he and I have been through this summer was simply the catalyst for everything to implode between them.

“Pray with me tonight,” he says.

“I will,” I reply.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I had some free time between classes yesterday, so I spent some time cleaning out my laptop of all the old devotional things I’d written for the Kemetic pantheon over three, nearly four, years.  I did the same on my Tumblr account.  Dream records, divination logs, pictures, poetry, prayers–all of it got deleted.  I smashed delete extra hard on things involving my “Father,” trying to pour all my pain and rage into clicking a mouse button and hitting the backspace key.

Then my music shuffled, and this came up:

*Varian does his best not to break down crying in the library*

While listening to the song, I got a strong mental image of the Madman walking beside me, his hand in mine.

It was a reminder that I may feel abandoned and awful about all of this Drama and the fallout, but I’m not alone.  He’s still with me, so is my chosen Family.

Everything about this entire situation feels really raw right now, so even though that song hit a little too close to home, it was also the reminder I needed that I’m not alone in all of this.


We’ve been talking about what to do next–not in regards to the Otherworlds; the Dreamer and his Court are handling the Politics related fallout–but in regards to me and my path.  Everyone–even the Big Scary Powers that are the Far Ones–thinks setting up an intentional fallow time is a very good idea.

I put everyone else in my Family before myself when all the Drama was going down, and now I find that shutting down the panic-and-fear-induced “put everyone else before myself” mode my brain is stuck in is hard (plus I’m not sure if the adrenaline rush from a million intense things happening all at once has entirely quit yet.)

We’ve agreed that my practice won’t entirely stop–though if I need to put the whole thing down for a while, I can–but that I’ll go back to what I was originally doing; writing letters in my journal and simply talking with my Family.

Right now all I know is that I’m still in shock, that I need to heal, and that I need to not put myself last, somehow.