Write about a time when you were lost.
I still remember that room – sitting before two judges, no trial of my peers or evidentiary hearing; just me, sitting across from two people who knew me — or so they thought anyway.
You don’t fit here — your form, your being, your very way of thinking doesn’t fit here. I am paralyzed — lost.
In their words — in my own thoughts; stay here, I willed myself. Mind don’t run away from me now. So all I can think is How do I run from here — this place of loss and confusion; without them thinking I’m a crazy person — who’s lost her way.
Remember that plan you thought you had — it’s gone and only replaced with questions — So what do I know? Why are you only telling me about this now? If only there was a support group for loss of certainty.
So meanwhile I sit across from those whose questions only leave me feeling blindsided — I am lost in their words, their meanings; their attempts to help. But how?
I feel ambushed, surrounded by my own fears, struggling to hear their comments — I just came here for help — why are you bombarding me?
I am lost in my own questions. In this in between place — done with one place, but the other not yet a possibility. My words have been stolen away — shared in confidence, in a moment of weariness, only to be unveiled when I am exhausted, lost in my worries — fears of fitting in.
I am sitting here, in this room with two many people and not enough chairs — in a place I only thought was secure.
I am lost in my own words; in the me I must portray and thus betray who has things together, if managing, is coping, is merely being — I wish I could just be; but today I find myself in this place with people who spoke of supporting me.
I don’t understand, instead I try to lose my emotions, only left with reason and rationale, with a plan for becoming someone other than myself.
I hope she fits here because I don’t. I feel odd and out of place — I feel your words are coming too fast.
Why is this information new to me — how could I have not realized this, recognized this before; there must be something wrong with me.
Why else would I be trapped in this tiny room with intentions left unknown amongst my sea of thoughts.
I am swept away by its waves — in a place I was never expecting to be, no map, no compass, just me and a few flares for the road.
And so we sit as I try to tie these inquiries and notions together wishing I hadn’t arrived here — only to realize I have no idea where I’m going
All I know is that I must abandon here — “I am here in this place; I fit, I belong.” If only I felt that way here. I am spinning solutions in my mind and I wonder where I am going.
I pretend to have answers as I sit here waiting for the confusion to pass. — For I’m lost in the meantime.