Too much traffic in my head. Things darting in and out like angry rabbits, memories, feelings, judgments taking little nips at me then skittering away. Some don't dart, some sink in their damning maws and draw blood. My puppy is in my head. Not so surprisingly I suppose, he has become a clear window through which to see - even more glaringly - how passive and frightened I am. all the time. Although the intent was for him to be my dog as therapy as nonjudgmental role model for me, but in 3 short wks I am not alpha - K. is - and I am not assertive enough. I have so much fear, and puppy reads me rather well. I try to be the calm assertive Dog Whisperer advises, but I am neither. It's not his fault. I watch my partner with him and there is this easy strength (although he gets frustrated too), he plays with the dog in a way I realize I have no clue about. I don't know how to play. I feel threatened and he reads. I feel uncertain and he reads. Such a little scholar. He is beautiful and lovely and likes my company but clearly sees K as the one to go to. So my little lonely self feels abandoned.
Trigger happy. I am in my head rending, churning out as much evidence as it can, elucidating failures. I am feeling rather starkers (yes, naked and raving). There are much worse things in the world than to have a constant reminder of my doormat-self. I'm trying to escape but this overriding (or underpinning - either way I'm surrounded) sense of doom does tend to shred one. Dispirited are us. I have black and white positions, fear and attack. I just want it to go away, I want to stop feeling so bad inside. I'm becoming more and more convinced that it's just not gonna happen. So bleak so spare this inner terrain, I am a miracle of lichen surviving under harsh conditions. How does a mind (using the term loosely) get this way, I mean it's a rhetorical question as I believe I have some pretty good ideas about that, but it's crying out from within, I just don't want to hurt anymore, is it too much to ask? I didn't ask for it so someone something please take it away. Have I been so awful that i am meant to feel punished and unliveable, I have not earned a life so it would seem. Yet I am here, awash in this excreta. Increta really, it's inside and it's all been said, felt thought before. I am by no means charting new waters here, and so I feel ashamed to ask for so much. So much. Don't I have enough all ready? But I'm going through some motions, others I am not even trying. I'm not living my own life, someone else should have been given this chance, I appear to be wasting mine away. I wrestle with writing all this down in public, I rationalise by saying I can put my thoughts down quicker and not miss so much in my efforts to houseclean, yet I know I also want to be seen, and loved. I don't love me though. Others profess too but it rolls off like rain over oil. There's nothing worth loving in here I whisper. Give your love where it will do some good.
I pop my pills and there is less edge, but it's still looming out there, very close, willing me to just go, slip over. I'm still here, so something is keeping me going, but I'm not happy about it. Ha. ha.
Diez anos - I had just finished bathing, standing before the steamed-up mirror brushing my hair when it hit me: the fetus inside the belly of one of the sisters whose li...
4 months ago