Sometimes there's nothing else but writing. I am at a loss and am drawn back here to say whatever is passing through, just to empty out the empty thought. I wrestle with the blatant self-centredness of this, if I really wanted just to write to purge, then I would erase, delete,etc. But then I read over old posts, sometimes I see things I didn't before or weren't there before, hmmmmm) but it's part of proving I am not a specter, that I do exist. Something concrete (that's funny, this is the ether after all)In some manner. This becomes a repository (not the kind where bumped up NOT assassins might lurk, but where my thoughts can go, to be examined at a later date, or not).
I seem to be doing better, calmer, the rage is not so quick (yet remains). I am getting up most mornings and staying up, walking the dog (we still struggle), actually had people over to the house for thanksgiving, cooked the big meal and everything, so wonder of wonders. Sadness is misting everywhere, like the 200 names for snow is this sadness inside.
I have made some interesting connections lately, meeting some like minded folk (women really) either of the arty kind, or mental health kind or both. Makes me wonder about the chemistry of beings, the magnetic fields and attractors (detractors too). So many things are so puzzling to me, the cruelty of the world, the narrow fields of vision scanned by most, what's most important most often remains unscanned, unexplored, unventured. Fear dominates I think. Fear that drives us to avoid, to hide, to narrow, to be wilfully blind to others' suffering "What can one person do?". A great deal, as it turns out. Simple kindnesses everyday will colour your immediate area with light, light your sphere of influence, a little bit here a little there. Kindness is so powerful. I just wish I could think more kindly towards myself. Being kind to others (unless I'm in the throes of the - horrors- trigger) is not hard, in fact it feels good. Being asked to do something compassionate often brings about a feeling of being threatened, but what I have found instead is that when kindness prevails, no one loses, there is no realised threat. Kindness is kind of logarithmic. But then so is meanness.
How I do ramble. This entry feels kind of perky. What the hell.
Love to everyone okay?
Post from 2011 - Who am I if I'm not suicidal? What is life like? Where am I uncomfortable because I'm not suicidal? It feels anxiously flat, a nervous nothingness So I feel ...
6 months ago