I don't know what I'm even fucking doing anymore.
I've completely lost my sense of self, my confidence has wavered so hard it's shaken apart beneath my feet.
I'm falling all over myself, trying to hold on to this idea, this hope and belief that soul mates are real. Love is unconditional. That this connection is magic and strong.
But he doesn't think much of me. I'm not worthy of trust, I'm manipulative, weird, unstable. I'm begging and crying over my own ignorance. And I'm not sure I'm worth the effort. I really don't feel worry the effort. I just thought I was doing everything alright for once.
I do this to myself. I'm a fucking idiot.
I'm making attempts at convincing a hard brick wall that a soft, easy existence is possible. But the cool feel of the clay tells me it's too late, or that it doesn't hear me at all.
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
sunlight in the winter
it's warm by the window, the sun is lying to me through plastic and over piled blankets.
coming off of two blissful weeks, medicated and warmly buzzing with tender touches, I hope for the best. but I already miss the burn in my throat, the veil falling over my face, being stable and happy with a little help.
the world shimmers and pulses, his touch is electric in the light of my stretching self confidence and perception. like for a second, I am actually what he thinks I am. there is no ominous shake around the edges, no falling into caves at the end of the night. I'll hold these memories, try to stand tall on my own.
I'm sure I sound silly, my words come out funny, I dream deeply and wake up chattering.
I just wish it wasn't so much work.
to make myself shelf stable.
free.
coming off of two blissful weeks, medicated and warmly buzzing with tender touches, I hope for the best. but I already miss the burn in my throat, the veil falling over my face, being stable and happy with a little help.
the world shimmers and pulses, his touch is electric in the light of my stretching self confidence and perception. like for a second, I am actually what he thinks I am. there is no ominous shake around the edges, no falling into caves at the end of the night. I'll hold these memories, try to stand tall on my own.
I'm sure I sound silly, my words come out funny, I dream deeply and wake up chattering.
I just wish it wasn't so much work.
to make myself shelf stable.
free.
Thursday, January 25, 2018
some analogy about swimming (drowning)
Last weekend I blacked out for the second time. It's taken a lifetime, but I really believe now, that I am not in control. Suppression only works when you lock all the doors.
I sit here sometimes, and wave my fists in the air. Write these empowering bullshit letters to myself about how interesting and strong I am and all the things that I might deserve. But I don't feel strong.
I've been in the Midwest for 6 years now. I thought I had outrun the dark imbalance, but I still haven't found my footing. But here's the thing. I'm 32. Will I ever? I have been in this mode of Don't Worry It'll Happen for over a decade, and actually making efforts for the last 5 of those years but.
I'm still just this. Good jobs, friends, a great man. And I can't pull myself above the water long enough to gulp the air and see the skies. I'm still feet below. Haunted by the warmth my fingertips feel above the foam, the sun exists, I need her. Just knowing the atmosphere is really there might have to be enough. I have a vivid imagination.
I am taking steps, I promise. I quit drinking, I am writing again, thinking about drawing. But I'm not working, I have become wary and paranoid of people, I am lashing out at my partner, I am weighted down by this strange winter. I have nothing to give, I can't follow through. I know this.
I feel better for my self awareness, though. Long thoughts in a quiet house have brought me closer to understanding how my madness works. I think about cutting everyday, but I'm doing good, I'm steering clear. The summer was harder, I forgive myself for that. In a constant state of restart, I have to be. Do you know what it is like, to try to describe this fog to another? Watching them struggle with the automatic responses - Don't I give you everything? Don't I make you happy? What have I done? And you can reach over and say please, it's internal, this is chemistry, goddamn it I'm suffocating and I'm the one tying the concrete block to my legs help me, and it won't matter. When it's this hard to talk about, you keep it to yourself. It festers.
And you learn that really, no matter how much people love you, you're on your own with this. Some try to stand valiantly with you. But it only takes one step too far for them to throw their hands up and say Fuck this, THIS is fucking crazy.
I'm just working through this, hair drifting around me in the deep cold water, I keep my eyes closed and retreat into my head. The room, do you remember it? The windows are foggy and dripping with condensation. There's nothing out there anyway. I love the way it smells, like wood and maybe pomegranate body spray. The boxes are scattered, the closet door is open. The animal is out and she purrs into my hand as I stand in the middle of this cluttered, stifling space. I talk to her, because she is me.
Maybe, for the first time, she'll talk back to me. Instead of screaming, instead of attacking. Silver eyes and my own heart. Maybe together, we can find balance, start kicking, and find the air.
I sit here sometimes, and wave my fists in the air. Write these empowering bullshit letters to myself about how interesting and strong I am and all the things that I might deserve. But I don't feel strong.
I've been in the Midwest for 6 years now. I thought I had outrun the dark imbalance, but I still haven't found my footing. But here's the thing. I'm 32. Will I ever? I have been in this mode of Don't Worry It'll Happen for over a decade, and actually making efforts for the last 5 of those years but.
I'm still just this. Good jobs, friends, a great man. And I can't pull myself above the water long enough to gulp the air and see the skies. I'm still feet below. Haunted by the warmth my fingertips feel above the foam, the sun exists, I need her. Just knowing the atmosphere is really there might have to be enough. I have a vivid imagination.
I am taking steps, I promise. I quit drinking, I am writing again, thinking about drawing. But I'm not working, I have become wary and paranoid of people, I am lashing out at my partner, I am weighted down by this strange winter. I have nothing to give, I can't follow through. I know this.
I feel better for my self awareness, though. Long thoughts in a quiet house have brought me closer to understanding how my madness works. I think about cutting everyday, but I'm doing good, I'm steering clear. The summer was harder, I forgive myself for that. In a constant state of restart, I have to be. Do you know what it is like, to try to describe this fog to another? Watching them struggle with the automatic responses - Don't I give you everything? Don't I make you happy? What have I done? And you can reach over and say please, it's internal, this is chemistry, goddamn it I'm suffocating and I'm the one tying the concrete block to my legs help me, and it won't matter. When it's this hard to talk about, you keep it to yourself. It festers.
And you learn that really, no matter how much people love you, you're on your own with this. Some try to stand valiantly with you. But it only takes one step too far for them to throw their hands up and say Fuck this, THIS is fucking crazy.
I'm just working through this, hair drifting around me in the deep cold water, I keep my eyes closed and retreat into my head. The room, do you remember it? The windows are foggy and dripping with condensation. There's nothing out there anyway. I love the way it smells, like wood and maybe pomegranate body spray. The boxes are scattered, the closet door is open. The animal is out and she purrs into my hand as I stand in the middle of this cluttered, stifling space. I talk to her, because she is me.
Maybe, for the first time, she'll talk back to me. Instead of screaming, instead of attacking. Silver eyes and my own heart. Maybe together, we can find balance, start kicking, and find the air.
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Seaside (a dream)
I know that I am a nanny of some sort for a family, we're in a small town on the water, I am 16, and I am special.
The family is a mom and dad with two boys, I never get their names, but they seem to know my family and trust me. The boys have friends who frequently stay over, and I care genuinely for them. They are loud, silly, and kind to each other. They are younger, closer to 13.
The home is loud all the time, I do laundry and cook for the whole family, follow them from room to room cleaning and checking in. The dad is a very large man with a grey mustache, and he doesn't talk much. The mom is tall and I don't see her often. The home is not really a house but a hollowed out store in a strip mall, on a corner of an L shaped street- we are the last building before the street turns away and begins to run parallel to the ocean. There are other families in the mall, and the common area just outside of our inner store fronts is always teeming with people. I wonder how this place came to be. The outside store front reminds me of strip malls in Florida, with backlit rectangles that are stark white now, but once told the names of the businesses within. It's tacky and a little but rundown, but the family I stay with has made their little store warm and very much a home.
Walking in the place has a depth you'd expect from a boutique, but someone has built walls to break up the length. The parents stay near the front in a cubicle style room with it's own door, and across from the living area. There were no covering on the glass storefront, which was weird. In the middle is the kitchen and laundry, it's dark here, there are no windows and the food smells never escape. There is a small table and for some reason a couch in the dining area, and when I cook it's where the kids lounge and chatter while they eat. The parents take their food to their room. One meal I made was three parts, and the boys ate everything before I had a chance to try it, but I didn't mind, and they all said thank you. The back part of the space is broken up into two rooms, one before the other, so you have to pass through the first to get to the second. The first was mine, the second the boys'. The had a large space with several beds and hammocks, the colors were mostly orange and blues. Their room also had the bathroom in it, which was awkward for me in the middle of the night. There were still no windows, and oddly, no back door as you would expect from a strip mall. (How did they take deliveries?) My room was smaller but comfortable, my bed was away from the door and walkway with lots of blankets and a shelf installed above it. I also have a small but deep closet.
Things get weird when I start to notice my pillows are changing. One of them turns completely black and smoky white letters appear on it that form messages. There is a new message everyday, but I can't remember them now. School is starting up again soon, and the boys and I are trying to enjoy the last of the summer freedom. We go left for walks up and down the street the mall is on, this street will take us into town, or go right to the beach which is so close we can hear the water from our door. The street into town is very unsettling. Just across from us is a line of beautiful, tall, Victorian styled mansions and house. It's as if the street cuts across two totally different worlds, but something is wrong. The large beautiful buildings look as though they've been siting empty for ages. Some of them look as though they have been set on fire, hallowed out and sagging. The colors around the edges of the damage are intact and still so vibrant, and it creates a spooky rainbow in the sad view. We were told never to go in the houses, threatened with unspeakable punishment even. But I'm feeling like a teenager and the boys are just as itchy to get in one of them, but we fight the urge. One day on our way to the water, we cross the street to pass the tallest house, the one on the corner directly adjacent to the mall. I see something in the sun, just near the porch. This house is my favorite, with striking teal paint still clinging to its carved wooden accents, several leaded windows still intact and bright in the daylight. It must've been three stories tall and been a maze inside, and I found myself daydreaming about it when I was in my room, it haunts me. I move to the fence and the boys grab me by the wrists, are you crazy? You can't go in there? It's our asses on the line here. But I order them to keep watch and I jump the fence, heading to the shine I saw a moment before. The grass in the yard is green and soft, the house itself seems to be exhaling, but nothing about this seems scary. I feel the breeze and see rays of light through the front door and have to shake off the urge to just go inside. I feel so comfortable here. Shaking it off, I find what I'm looking for. I should be caught by now, I'm in plain view, the kids are hanging over the fence trying to get a look, and I laugh, this is crazy. This is a dream, and I have to find this. It's a large token, like from an arcade or car wash. It's incredibly clean and smooth, but I can't seem to make out the image engraved on it. I head back to the group and we trek to the beach.
As the kids play in the water, I sit cross legged in the sand. I hold my newfound treasure and try to remember what the message was this morning. I haven't told anyone about the weird things happening to me, and I don't feel overly worried about it. The beach is a surreal image, the water is blue green and the waves seem high and strong, but people walk easily into them and they crash gently and feather light. They get high enough that the sun lights them vividly, brilliantly, and the salt smells fresh and clean. The sand is a rich umber color, almost like red clay but smooth and crystalline as any sugar sand, free of debris and so soft under my fingers. I am smiling at the group as they try to drown each other when I hear what sounds like a bell near my head and startled, I look around. I see several people standing completely still and staring up in the midst of the chaos. It's just something I notice, it feels causal and almost normal. The sound was more upsetting, this is interesting. The beach is packed, everyone in bathing suits and surrounded by blankets and coolers. But scattered throughout the movement and noise, are these human statues. I look up, curious as to what they are looking at but I see only sky and clouds. A gorgeous sky, to be sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. I look around again, and now there is no stillness, only masses of wriggling families. I call to the kids and we head back to the mall. That night in my room I hear music that is slow and strange and seems to be coming from the floor. I try to find a way into a basement that I really don't even know exists and even poke into the boys' room to see if they are up, but they're passed the fuck out. As I head back to my bed I notice my closet light is on. And for the first time in the dream I am creeped out. I go to the closet and open the door. The closet is not wide, but it is about 6 feet deep, and the lightbulb and string are at the end. Of course. I am brave, this is fine, and I walk to the string and pull. But the light won't go out. It's stuck, or broken, and I pull harder. Suddenly, without warning the bulb catches fire! What the fuck. I grab a jacket hanging near by and smother the fire, throw the jacket down, back out of the closet, close the door, and go to bed. The music is still playing, as I lay there, I swear at times I can hear a girl's voice too.
The next morning we all have school. The boys have gotten up before me, they aren't in their beds, and I get ready in blessedly empty bathroom. I'm excited for school, and trying to forget what happened the night before. My pillow is a paragraph of tiny print, it feels urgent, but I'm running late and I start to throw on clothes. Then I hear it. One of the boys is calling my name, but he isn't close. I can hear him clearly, but he's not in the house. I run into the kitchen, and look in the direction of the beach and through the wall I can see him. He's down by the water, walking with an older boy in sunglasses and a dark jacket, and he's waving and calling my name. Get down here quick, fucking hurry! So I run out to the street and down to the beach.
There are people everywhere? They aren't there to relax, it's Monday and they're all dressed normally. But they're wandering all over the beach without direction and sometimes, they stop and talk to one another. I approach the two boys, the young one I know comes to meet me with a warm hug and he says that the rest will wait for directions? That they are with me. I am confused, but I run my hands through his hair and turn to the older boy. He has longish hair and he smiles into my face before asking if we can walk. He asks me if I read my pillow this morning and I stop short, to ask him who he is. He tells me he knows what I've been seeing, that he's been trying to reach me, and that maybe there was still time to change things. I look up at that moment and see a large black ship in the sky and I turn back to his face. He says they can't see this, they can't see anything, we can and we have to do something. I feel this energy in my chest and I point to my favorite house and tell him to hide there, I have to do something. We part ways, he heads to the mansion, I head to the mall. The waves behind me sound heavier, and they crash loudly. I don't look back. As I run into the house the boys are there waiting, and I ask them why they haven't left for school, their parents are going to kill me! But they've been filled in about the mysterious stranger and now their interest is with me, not with the first day of high school. They hover as I dig into my bed for the token, which is almost humming. I tell them I'm skipping today, but promise that if they go to school, I'll tell them everything when they get home tonight. I ask them, Did you notice anything in the sky today? They shake their heads, and protest school again. I tell them they are the raddest dudes in the universe but right now I have some shit to figure out, so they have to pretend everything is normal until I need them for something else got it?! We pinky swear, and they reluctantly go to school. When they get out of sight, the whole town seems to have gone with them. It's so quiet, spare the water, which sounds angry. I cross the street and jump the fence. I call the name he told me, but one I can't remember now, and I go into the house.
And I wake up.
Notes:
- The boys and I have a strong bond, probably the type of friendship that I always wanted when I was growing up. Innocent and supportive, they reminded me of my little brother. Ride or Die.
- The mansions were striking, jesus. I wanted so badly to see the inside, some of them were full of sand, some of them were charred, some of them just looked like they had fallen in.
- The beaches in my dreams are goddamn beautiful.
- The depth of the feelings in this dream make me wonder if this dream has actually been going on subconsciously for years, I felt every memory and all the backstory. It was rich and interesting.
The family is a mom and dad with two boys, I never get their names, but they seem to know my family and trust me. The boys have friends who frequently stay over, and I care genuinely for them. They are loud, silly, and kind to each other. They are younger, closer to 13.
The home is loud all the time, I do laundry and cook for the whole family, follow them from room to room cleaning and checking in. The dad is a very large man with a grey mustache, and he doesn't talk much. The mom is tall and I don't see her often. The home is not really a house but a hollowed out store in a strip mall, on a corner of an L shaped street- we are the last building before the street turns away and begins to run parallel to the ocean. There are other families in the mall, and the common area just outside of our inner store fronts is always teeming with people. I wonder how this place came to be. The outside store front reminds me of strip malls in Florida, with backlit rectangles that are stark white now, but once told the names of the businesses within. It's tacky and a little but rundown, but the family I stay with has made their little store warm and very much a home.
Walking in the place has a depth you'd expect from a boutique, but someone has built walls to break up the length. The parents stay near the front in a cubicle style room with it's own door, and across from the living area. There were no covering on the glass storefront, which was weird. In the middle is the kitchen and laundry, it's dark here, there are no windows and the food smells never escape. There is a small table and for some reason a couch in the dining area, and when I cook it's where the kids lounge and chatter while they eat. The parents take their food to their room. One meal I made was three parts, and the boys ate everything before I had a chance to try it, but I didn't mind, and they all said thank you. The back part of the space is broken up into two rooms, one before the other, so you have to pass through the first to get to the second. The first was mine, the second the boys'. The had a large space with several beds and hammocks, the colors were mostly orange and blues. Their room also had the bathroom in it, which was awkward for me in the middle of the night. There were still no windows, and oddly, no back door as you would expect from a strip mall. (How did they take deliveries?) My room was smaller but comfortable, my bed was away from the door and walkway with lots of blankets and a shelf installed above it. I also have a small but deep closet.
Things get weird when I start to notice my pillows are changing. One of them turns completely black and smoky white letters appear on it that form messages. There is a new message everyday, but I can't remember them now. School is starting up again soon, and the boys and I are trying to enjoy the last of the summer freedom. We go left for walks up and down the street the mall is on, this street will take us into town, or go right to the beach which is so close we can hear the water from our door. The street into town is very unsettling. Just across from us is a line of beautiful, tall, Victorian styled mansions and house. It's as if the street cuts across two totally different worlds, but something is wrong. The large beautiful buildings look as though they've been siting empty for ages. Some of them look as though they have been set on fire, hallowed out and sagging. The colors around the edges of the damage are intact and still so vibrant, and it creates a spooky rainbow in the sad view. We were told never to go in the houses, threatened with unspeakable punishment even. But I'm feeling like a teenager and the boys are just as itchy to get in one of them, but we fight the urge. One day on our way to the water, we cross the street to pass the tallest house, the one on the corner directly adjacent to the mall. I see something in the sun, just near the porch. This house is my favorite, with striking teal paint still clinging to its carved wooden accents, several leaded windows still intact and bright in the daylight. It must've been three stories tall and been a maze inside, and I found myself daydreaming about it when I was in my room, it haunts me. I move to the fence and the boys grab me by the wrists, are you crazy? You can't go in there? It's our asses on the line here. But I order them to keep watch and I jump the fence, heading to the shine I saw a moment before. The grass in the yard is green and soft, the house itself seems to be exhaling, but nothing about this seems scary. I feel the breeze and see rays of light through the front door and have to shake off the urge to just go inside. I feel so comfortable here. Shaking it off, I find what I'm looking for. I should be caught by now, I'm in plain view, the kids are hanging over the fence trying to get a look, and I laugh, this is crazy. This is a dream, and I have to find this. It's a large token, like from an arcade or car wash. It's incredibly clean and smooth, but I can't seem to make out the image engraved on it. I head back to the group and we trek to the beach.
As the kids play in the water, I sit cross legged in the sand. I hold my newfound treasure and try to remember what the message was this morning. I haven't told anyone about the weird things happening to me, and I don't feel overly worried about it. The beach is a surreal image, the water is blue green and the waves seem high and strong, but people walk easily into them and they crash gently and feather light. They get high enough that the sun lights them vividly, brilliantly, and the salt smells fresh and clean. The sand is a rich umber color, almost like red clay but smooth and crystalline as any sugar sand, free of debris and so soft under my fingers. I am smiling at the group as they try to drown each other when I hear what sounds like a bell near my head and startled, I look around. I see several people standing completely still and staring up in the midst of the chaos. It's just something I notice, it feels causal and almost normal. The sound was more upsetting, this is interesting. The beach is packed, everyone in bathing suits and surrounded by blankets and coolers. But scattered throughout the movement and noise, are these human statues. I look up, curious as to what they are looking at but I see only sky and clouds. A gorgeous sky, to be sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. I look around again, and now there is no stillness, only masses of wriggling families. I call to the kids and we head back to the mall. That night in my room I hear music that is slow and strange and seems to be coming from the floor. I try to find a way into a basement that I really don't even know exists and even poke into the boys' room to see if they are up, but they're passed the fuck out. As I head back to my bed I notice my closet light is on. And for the first time in the dream I am creeped out. I go to the closet and open the door. The closet is not wide, but it is about 6 feet deep, and the lightbulb and string are at the end. Of course. I am brave, this is fine, and I walk to the string and pull. But the light won't go out. It's stuck, or broken, and I pull harder. Suddenly, without warning the bulb catches fire! What the fuck. I grab a jacket hanging near by and smother the fire, throw the jacket down, back out of the closet, close the door, and go to bed. The music is still playing, as I lay there, I swear at times I can hear a girl's voice too.
The next morning we all have school. The boys have gotten up before me, they aren't in their beds, and I get ready in blessedly empty bathroom. I'm excited for school, and trying to forget what happened the night before. My pillow is a paragraph of tiny print, it feels urgent, but I'm running late and I start to throw on clothes. Then I hear it. One of the boys is calling my name, but he isn't close. I can hear him clearly, but he's not in the house. I run into the kitchen, and look in the direction of the beach and through the wall I can see him. He's down by the water, walking with an older boy in sunglasses and a dark jacket, and he's waving and calling my name. Get down here quick, fucking hurry! So I run out to the street and down to the beach.
There are people everywhere? They aren't there to relax, it's Monday and they're all dressed normally. But they're wandering all over the beach without direction and sometimes, they stop and talk to one another. I approach the two boys, the young one I know comes to meet me with a warm hug and he says that the rest will wait for directions? That they are with me. I am confused, but I run my hands through his hair and turn to the older boy. He has longish hair and he smiles into my face before asking if we can walk. He asks me if I read my pillow this morning and I stop short, to ask him who he is. He tells me he knows what I've been seeing, that he's been trying to reach me, and that maybe there was still time to change things. I look up at that moment and see a large black ship in the sky and I turn back to his face. He says they can't see this, they can't see anything, we can and we have to do something. I feel this energy in my chest and I point to my favorite house and tell him to hide there, I have to do something. We part ways, he heads to the mansion, I head to the mall. The waves behind me sound heavier, and they crash loudly. I don't look back. As I run into the house the boys are there waiting, and I ask them why they haven't left for school, their parents are going to kill me! But they've been filled in about the mysterious stranger and now their interest is with me, not with the first day of high school. They hover as I dig into my bed for the token, which is almost humming. I tell them I'm skipping today, but promise that if they go to school, I'll tell them everything when they get home tonight. I ask them, Did you notice anything in the sky today? They shake their heads, and protest school again. I tell them they are the raddest dudes in the universe but right now I have some shit to figure out, so they have to pretend everything is normal until I need them for something else got it?! We pinky swear, and they reluctantly go to school. When they get out of sight, the whole town seems to have gone with them. It's so quiet, spare the water, which sounds angry. I cross the street and jump the fence. I call the name he told me, but one I can't remember now, and I go into the house.
And I wake up.
Notes:
- The boys and I have a strong bond, probably the type of friendship that I always wanted when I was growing up. Innocent and supportive, they reminded me of my little brother. Ride or Die.
- The mansions were striking, jesus. I wanted so badly to see the inside, some of them were full of sand, some of them were charred, some of them just looked like they had fallen in.
- The beaches in my dreams are goddamn beautiful.
- The depth of the feelings in this dream make me wonder if this dream has actually been going on subconsciously for years, I felt every memory and all the backstory. It was rich and interesting.
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
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