found what i thought I'd lost

Haven't known what to do with myself all day. not sleeping but mostly I think it's my poor diet. Sugar, gluten, don't know. Denial of me having any other contributing factors i suppose. stayed off commenting or sharing or liking anything on FB today because a friend said she wouldn't be on FB out of respect for the day. One day is so paltry. platitudes. when reality is changed policies, downgraded or erased supports and escalating suicide rates. Was just watching a show about a u.s. crisis line, remembering wishing I was capable of doing this work still, feeling robbed feeling heartbroken for all the broken hearts and minds and souls out there, dying painfully with each though.SO many veterans of wars are suffering, needlessly and there is so very little I can do about it. I feel a fraud. I read all the kind and I believe sincerely loving comments and shares on FB by friends and family about me and other people they know who have served, Family members lost. I feel a fraud.  Theoretically I am a veteran but there are such scales of difference such breadth of unrelenting suffering that so many young and old experienced. I only heard the slightest bit of the stories out there. I cannot count myself on a par with these grieved souls. And I don't know why I think I have to be the same because there is no same, there is only anguish, degrees of, depths of severity, longevity of. Lately I've been doing pretty well. But not this day. The one day a year the country stops in its 5 and one half time zones to be still, seems so fucking paltry. I feel paltry really.I will never feel worthy of this gift of life, the pension I receive when so many others live on the streets. Do I give it all up? Is that the answer? Part of me says , dares me: yes. But then so then what I receive goes on to help probably at least 4 others very well and 8 others somewhat and then I am gone and maybe then will I feel worthy of this life, is that is what is being asked of me? To achieve the love I do not feel and have not ever felt worthy of, must I erase myself? Making art is good, is good for me, but seems so nothing  does it help? does it help  to make something out of an everyday object to transform it into something eyecatching? My artist statement asserts that this sublimation (word??) gives a message of hope in unexpected places. I just don't know.I don't know anything. I don't care enough about myself yet I care too much. And by the way I don't think paradox is as accurate a concept as I once thought. I think it is a paradox  is a paradox ad nauseum.
Glad to at least rediscover this forum, where I can hide, I can till be found, but not so [publicly. Sometimes I feel brave to speak my truth and spout things on FB but I am raw today, I am uncertain today. I am waiting for midnight so this illusion of time lets me out of November 11th. It is a;l illusion.assigning descriptors to experiences to try and make sense try and create order out of this chaos of chaos who are we trying to fool.
Sound and fury signifying nothing, fine William.

I hate Remembrance Day

well I guess at least I was able to vent. FUCK

I just lost about 500 wds of straight stream of consciousness writing and entire fucking post.

very frustrating

i hate remembrance day. I've been unhinged all day. Lost adrift, no sleep, waiting for the day to be over. 

staying away from FB and the platitudes.

Despise people in government, despair for the state of the world

so many homeless veterans, so many in poverty giving up, making the decision to take their own power back in the only way they have left.

all the words are spewed out

I guess the purpose served.

Art is a car, apparently

well, I said I'd report back, it was far more challenging and left me reeling. I was thankful to have friends there. A couple of contributing factors: the presence of a former therapist, the words of other artists which left me feeling disappointed and incensed at their shallowness (my judgment) and resistance to acknowledging their place of privilege their racism. It was such a white room, although a good turn  out. I liked what I said, mostly. I felt very raw throughout and I did speak far too long oh well.

Art is an amazing vehicle for expression what words cannot even begin to capture.

Acknowledging my Anxiety

I'm feeling so nervous, I can feel my belly churning. I am going to be in a panel art talk this afternoon. I enjoy public speaking I miss it in part as it is purely performance for me, perhaps thinking of it in this way removes me to a safe distance, I think so, reduces my anxiety, as does the writing I do now. When I have not acknowledged my anxiety in a concrete way it has more power over my choices, I am more apt to say things from a place ruled by my insecurities rather than from a deeper, calmer place, where I am better able to listen, to pace my words and actions. I am excited about this opportunity to speak about my art; to speak to its strengths and limitations. I hope to be courageous in my words and actions, to speak of what I know which is only me and no one else. Everything is subjective, and my art is me on display, which is an act of courage too.
I want to assert myself, not interrupt others. I hope I speak words that are meaningful. I hope I challenge what is suitable to challenge, with grace and respect. This feels like an important opportunity for me. I'll report back.

ok what am I grateful for today?

My husband who makes me feel better with his hugs. my dog who sometimes seem to like me. he's soft and fluffy, I love his coat.

I love the sun and wind and waves and mountains that were so clear today.

I am please I sent in a proposal today to Gallery Gachet!

A starter list of gratitude

I ask that sadness, guilt, shame, self-hatred and anger leave my body.

Thank you to my brain for making serotonin and dopamine.
I thank my brain for helping me survive.

I am grateful for my husband, for shelter, for my dog, for clothing, for food, for air, for where I live, for the trees and the water. I am grateful for birds, I am grateful for seals and sea lions. I am grateful for music.

I am grateful for kind people. I am grateful for my friends. I am grateful for feeling loved. I am grateful for laughter, for moments of shared hilarity.
I am grateful for this space to write these thoughts down.

With this of all things

being sad is past tiresome. It's a new year, but really it's just a different day. It's only an agreed upon frame of reference. I feel like I am waiting but I am only waiting for myself to show up, there will be no miracle, no one will come to save me if I cannot do it for myself. It's a horrible feeling that I cannot find any spark, I think I only have them as I rub off on others, I suppose that is fitting. Wood, metals, they emit energy when struck together. balloons and materials emit smaller sparks as electrical energy. Being alone I struggle to expend my own energy, but I fear being with others, no one knows the fear, I prefer to stay in hiding, to sit with my envy, my sadness, my remorse, my disappointment. I am living in fear of being alive. My courage escapes me, it is dwarfed by my sadness. It is said first mourn then work for change, but I can't seem to stop mourning. I sometimes work through the tears but it gets hard and my tears need their expression this much I know because they persist so mightily.With this of all things I would that I was finished.