Injustice: My Bell Jar Diaries

Riding a Demented Carousel

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My life was like this mesmerizing machine. Round and round. Again and again. An endless circle of disorientation and dissension. Whimsy not included. I didn’t stand in line for this ride, I didn’t beg to go, I didn’t buy the ticket but for the first 17 years of my life I had no choice.

I cannot begin to explain how bitter I used to be or how much I truly hated them. Perhaps, there are no words sufficient to convey the intensity of these feelings.

Bitterness and hate are ugly things, they grow rapidly from within, like so many twisting vines, wrapping and weaving into every crevice. It will ultimately consume all that you are and choke out all that you could become.

At some point, you have to muster the courage to jump off. Because here’s the thing about carousels, demented or not, you NEVER get anywhere.

14 comments

  1. Feels like I’ve somehow been thrown back on a couple of carousels just lately.
    I love how you express the essence of a thing,
    the way you capture the texture of what you write about,
    simply for what it is,
    I can read a piece of yours and feel quietly known.
    That’s a pretty awesome gift.

    Liked by 3 people

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  2. Woodsy,
    Oh my goodness! You’re making me tear up 🥺 that is one of the most amazing compliments anyone has ever paid me!!! I’m beyond touched! Your amazingly kind words mean so much. More than you know. Thank you just doesn’t seem sufficient.

    I’m sorry to hear that – hurts my heart. It’s a cruel thing, isn’t it? That you can get thrown back on. It can be infuriating and miserable. I sincerely hope with all my heart ❤️ that you can jump off as soon as humanly possible. When you do, do me a favor. Would you? Rip up that ticket 🎟 to pieces and then burn 🔥 it.

    Sláinte Mhath!

    Liked by 3 people

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    1. Thank you so much.
      It’s a pleasure reading you. Even your comments have that compassionate compassion which is, I think, the one thing that has a hope of saving us all.

      Something I noticed today – even when it seems we have a get-out-of-jail-free card, it can take the smallest thing to swing us round where we’ve been before.

      But the small things are also where the magic lives, and where we find places of courage.

      Liked by 2 people

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      2. The feeling is mutual. Your work is beautiful. There’s been times, I’ll admit, I want to comment and I don’t know how to articulate how your words made me feel. I believe you’re right about that…true compassion is rare. Without it, I shutter to think where we’d all be.

        Well said. Very well said. There is so much truth in your words. The small things are what matter most in this big world.
        A pity: They can get lost so easily. It’s also easy to lose your belief in hope and in magic. Your last 7 words…will ring in my ears forever. Only a poet could possess and bestow that beauty, “and where we find places of courage.”

        Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, sweetheart!
      I appreciate you reading my work and taking the time to comment. Keep practicing and someday you will write better than all of us!!! Every day I used to say: I Can & I Will and guess what? I did! I’ve been published twice now! When I was your age I was a lot like you and I didn’t think I’d ever be a good writer. But I kept trying and I never gave up! Ankita, I believe you can & you will!

      Liked by 1 person

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