There were words scattered all over the table, dripping off the edge of the bed. There was a puddle of words on the bathroom floor, some stuck on the mirror and the sink counter. She couldn’t get her eyes off of the words stained on every wall, like a burning smudge fropm a poorly placed candle or incense stick. She stepped in a pile of words in the kitchen, dragged it throughout the hall and left some by the couch to really just do herself in for the day, energetically speaking.
She couldn’t keep up with all of the things she forgot to say, all of the things she did say, everything that was left, lying at the corner of the room, displayed across the mirror, laying the deepest issues of her heart exposed and raw, receptive to every style of input and exposure and critique. She didn’t keep a regular journal of her feelings and discoveries throughout the day. She had always planned on it but something was always getting in the way!
She felt ostracized by herself in the most serious of fashions. She was 4 years in love, 2 years married and with child, and overwhelmed with the invisible pressures of mental health, clarity, and grace that seemed to come to every one else so easily, that seemed to always elude her at her slightest attempt to accomplish, produce, or create absolutely any of the tiniest things at all. Her failure, in her own eyes, penetrated her cause so very deeply and to it’s darkest and most powerful core, that she could not even muster the courage and consistency to daily register all that she was grateful for, all that she had built, the powerful and beautiful glory of the peaceful and fun existence already present.
Truthfully, she failed to radically accept the current landscape of her mind and her reality for the vast and intricate cornucoppia it was, often overlooking the stronger, braver, and patient parts of her mind and focusing instead on a poor memory and easily scatterbrained nature, fancy with the disappointing and angering and unsettling, and general feelings of self loathing and self abuse. She used all of this knowledge against herself, sometimes rallying to her own cause, but often using the deeper knowing and wisdom of her mind in ways not helpful to her or nurturing to her soul.
She kept feeling trapped by her circumstance, though she knew the only way she could pull herself out of that circumstance was to visualize and really experience herself having something better and being worthy of that better something, and feeling those feelings prematurelly, not in a way that desired those results from a place of fear but in a way that knew only I could really give myself that result by believing in myself and feeling worthy of it enough to even attepmt and go out and experience the world, fully.
She knew the holistic picture was what needed her full attention. In each and every moment of life, a holistic need was being met or desired experience being fulfilled. From the outside looking in, one could easily see how her lifestyle was suiting her deeper needs and how it was not. One could easily surmise that she was leaving some parts of her life feeling her best and utilizing her greatest potential, and one could easily see the areas where she was walking away feeling drained and empty, lifeless, and out of juice for the rest of that plan or any others even closely related or just any energy spent, really, sometimes the end is just the end.
Where some people can easily look at a part of their life (say a partner, child, friend, co worker, or otehrwise regularly checked in with area) and see how it is serving them or helping them grow, and others seem to just go in circles without any areas feeling fulfilled or particularly well groomed or nurtured. There is a part of me that just wants to enjoy life to the fullest and say – to hell with all the haters! But then there’s a very real part of me that cares truly and deeply about what is going on in the base levels of these relationships and issues and often feels guilty for feeling happy or fulfilled or enjoying life in the moment.
I don’t think anybody else could be responsible for this feeling but me. While some people would like to say – Oh, so and so is so this or so that, of course that is what is draining your energy. But I am, deep in my heart of hearts, knowing that it is a deeper issue of how I treat myself and allow myself to be treated.
There is a wisdom, a higher wisdom, a higher knowing, that tells me that I deserve to enjoy the moment and listen to my intuition, and follow along in my life doing the best I can in any particular moment.
It is difficult when somebody oscillates (like I do) between saying everything is fine, and we are working everything out, and doing the best we can, and will deal with obstacles and troubles as they come and not be anxious or worry about thing that we have no control over, and alternatively, a feeling of unrest, unwell, and feeling like there is no time to talk, and no obvious solution or immediate course of action well enough to take, and then springing on discussion in the moment with no lead in or ground rules or preparation of heart, mind, and soul.
In a situation such as that, all one can do is their absolute best, and attempt to keep some sort of clearer understanding of the landscape of communication or feeling or understanding in which to navigate the more difficult feelings that come up and have some plan of action or back up plan to approach difficulties in communication and expressing feelings.
I sometimes feel I certainly must have some sort of learning or world understanding disorder or unique condition, because I feel so strongly and deeply connected to my values and desires and understandings of the world in some aspects (writing, my online persona, writing blogs, articles, or other social media posts) but when it cocmes to communicating with another human being, I often feel somewhat left to dry, raw, and a little sunburned. Like I don’t have much love or compassion or understandind to give and I’m just sort of oozing this knowingness of how much I’ve just been through and I know nobody really wants to talk about it or hear my perspectiove but yet here it is just the sort of focal point of everything I do because that is just so squarely where I am right now.
Blech. Trying to desperately ascertain what it is I am capable of doing and where I should be directing my focus. Without overwhelming myself, putting too much pressure on myself, or overexpecting to the point that I shirk all of my expectations and responsibilities of myself, I want to develop some basic respectful understanding of myself, my physical and social daily needs, and some basic expectations and actions I can really depend on myself to complete. Lately the problem seems to be that I can’t seem to finish anything creative, and that I have trouble getting emmy to follow regular cyclical patterns of needs and fulfilling routines regularly. So for example, we would wake up, get dressed, go to the park,, run around and play, maybe have some juice and an orange or something, but play for a good hour or 2. Then come home, have breakfast around 10am, and enjoy some inside activities (writing, learning, reading, throwing catching etc). Then she soul have a snack/lunch, then enjoy a long nap. After which we would go outside again and play for a couple more hours. Then we would come home and sing and play music, and write and draw some more.
She was aleep at 3:15, bless the divines ❤
So I can plan, and scheme. I clean a little. I dance a lot. I drink some water and make some tea. I can be me, at least – I can be me.
I can make a list and long as I am tall. I can dance, sing, laugh, have festivals. based on the reality of myself against myself for myself by myself to myself. And alone, all one, I become. I am undone to be redone again.
I am awake.