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.

off and away

i tried to make a "family friendly" "somewhat normal" blog and i failed...

whatever.

i moved. to nebraska. just up and left. my whole life fit into less than half of the space of a small trucks bed. i followed a man, to his families home here. and so far its been something else. nice. cold. calm.
texas was starting to make me itch. maybe it was something else. my friends branching out and becoming people i knew less and less, family growing and expanding with me a footnote and a fleeting thought. driving away from it all was heartbreaking and exciting at the same time. the sun came up as we were passing through austin and i was breathing heavy. sleepy and wondering just what the hell i was doing. i havent had a cigarette in about a week. funny the resolutions we always go back to around new years.
[drunk and alive downtown and he says ive been thinking about what you said, lets just go]
[yes, i said yes]
my parents came over while we were packing and my mom was sad but my dad was strong and they pressed some cash into my hand and hugged me goodbye, saying be careful we love you do what you need to. support like that gives me strength, and its hard to find. only parents i guess. she came over too, but more so to tell me that once i realize my mistake i can always come back. pig says have fun, enjoy. i'll miss him the most of the friends i left behind...
starting a new life is something i have never done before. and with a man who still hasnt even said he loves me.
yep.
i am strangely unafraid now that im actually sitting here in the bedroom his family is letting us use. i walk outside and marvel, absolutely stare, at the amazing sunsets that happen here. the sky is so DIFFERENT.

[break]

ok its days later from the first part. i have a small, centered headache near my eyes, and im a little strange right now. omaha is weird, and the general color of the city is brown. trees are all dead or bright green, yes i know, weird. i have a tight feeling of homesick in my stomach and im sleeping off and on, and not working out. no smoking, no drinking. i am a shadow of my former self to make a good impression on this new family.

so much to say. but im shaky from all the caffeine. just time to post.