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~I Just Want To Be Loved~

~I think we all have heard that research has proved that babies feel loved more when a parent gently rubs their back,stomach or massages their arms and legs.To a baby who is put into a NICU (unit for babies born prematurely with breathing and/or other problems), interaction with their parent(s) is vital to their self-esteem, feelings of security and all future intimate relationships. A baby that is not loved, touched,hugged and kissed is most likely to suffer problems interacting through their lives.That is why doctors and nurses especially encourage parents to hug, snuggle or gently rub their babies skin.The human touch for a baby is as important as food; it's nourishment to a growing soul to be touched and to be loved. So why would it be any different to that soul as we become even older? Touch is communication without words. If someone wants to show a friend that they care often the first thing most people want to do is hug them. When people on line want to reach out to another ...
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Its the truth....

I am feeling very lonely, scared, unsure of my future and not too sure there will be a future. Whenever I try to "see" past the next few months its all black....I have never felt like that before. No matter how depressed I've been I have had the ability to see hope and a plan for the coming years. I want to get out of my house and my head and go to work but I don't know how to leave the house. I have applied for job after job on line but can't find a way to walk into a place and do the same thing I do on line...Filling out an application...How hard can it be? Then even the possibility of one of those jobs calling me in for a meeting...OMG, it makes my stomach hurt..Just thinking about an interview and then, if I get a job, the training, makes my heart start banging in my chest and my skin start to sweat. I can't breathe... I can't breathe.... I can't figure out anymore how to live. It doesn't even make me sad anymore. It just makes me feel aw...
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What The Hell Can I Say?

I'm afraid to do well, to write a masterpiece because if I do~ by chance or luck~ where will it end? Next I'd be expected another and another and more until so many words will be pulsating in my head. I wonder often, what would come of me? If I were a labeled a poet or a writer of any kind would I change? Already I try  harder, dig deeper for something wise that doesn't belong to my brain. Being me,  I write about love, death, beauty of the world and angst. What more can I borrow from this world... this tiny world that I've comforted around myself. I guess I'll have to venture out... see the sights and taste the cuisines to ever give more. Until that bravery comes to me I'll write about what's in my little ole head  and hope it gives you or even myself, a feeling of familiarity... of hope. Copyright © 2013 Stacy J. French~Roosa
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