Been awhile. Life is assorted. Human bits and bites or those licorice allsorts thingys. Lots of odd dreams, as usual the ones of mixed military and school, all anxiety based: you know, can't get this done on time, late for this, missing that, wearing the wrong (insert standard clothing item here). But then really weird ones that I actually physically feel, that seems a new twist. There was one with a male stalker that my therapist said I should write about to discern the message kinda thing and I think the cops showing up (to my initial relief) then holding me while witnessing and not doing anything except restrain me - so people I think i can/should trust are not trustworthy, will see with their own eyes that there is harm being done and will still not act, will even stop me from doing anything to help. So that's messed up. A physical silencing. A willful abandonment - messed me up all day. Like a hangover, with out the fun of the previous evening of drunken oblivion. So then I dream about these horrible little insect creatures who burrow into my skin and leave long long antennae hairs that I pull on to remove them. And I feel the hairs as I draw from my body. Then the "head" of the creature as it comes out, it actually screams - one week later, I can still feel it. I realise the look of it was"inspired" by the sea lice that attach to the poor wild salmon. Later in the dream it's "just" the creature bodies, I am bursting them out of me like they were pimples. Is this some creeped out metaphor of telling my stories, my stories of other peoples stories? Feeling the pain of release, but then still feeling it, sounds a warning to me, just leave them there. Whether I tell or not the pain will never lessen, I'm going out on a limb here, but that's a tad discouraging. Catch-22 of the finest order really.
I read in the news about the gov't raising benefits for injured veterans, and i read all of the disparate comments. People who have anger towards the gov't for even having a military (I am one) let alone condoning and participating in a war action. Let your anger find its true target, it's not the individual solder, they are trying to do something worthy and honourable. I believe this. There are truly a wee minority of freaks. I served long enough to know this. And I still believe that people are essentially good, it is our default position. I feel torn, I don't want anyone getting hurt, alas I am not in charge and I do things that are hurtful and sad to say sometimes it is a choice I make, there being no other explanation for it, hurting someone else may grant me a nanosecond reprieve, may have me convinced it is a defense that I can rationalise but it's never worth it, in the end there is only guilt and shame and wishing desperately for words back. So I guess it's a segment of our human condition, we all screw up, we all seek to make amends and sometimes I just want to hide from everyone - convinced of my essential toxicity. I can only hurt, I cannot help.
I don't think I will ever feel like a good person, it's too fleeting. There is too much damage. There is no - well I was about to say no hope left, but that sounds very dramatic and silly. I have a gift for negating my negation. Yeehaw.
First of all, NO, you are not toxic.
ReplyDeleteAnd YES you are a good person, of the highest order, really.
And your dreams are freaky, yes, but no freakier than any creative person's. Your mind isn't just creative when you're working on your art - it's creative even while you sleep. If you didn't have freaky dreams you wouldn't be the wonderful artist you are.
AND there's a perfectly good reason not to trust cops - they're not trustworthy.
And boy you write well. Really, really well.
Thank you Cathy, for all of this, it's good to feel the warmth of your support and compassion across the miles. Have a wonderful day.
ReplyDeleteLots of love and gratitude
Kel