The past few days have been like being caught in a bad dream. The chest tightens and tears swell, and I grasp at vapors searching for something to hold onto. That crippling feeling of wanting to flee, run, wake up, escape, but knowing there is no respite. This is life, deal with it.
It's interesting to reflect on the ebbs and flows of life. So simply had my flow come after the ebb, I had forgotten what the first was about. Life is easy to see as bright and chipper when everything is running smoothly. Throw a wrench in the cog, and the whole clock comes to a messy and jagged stop.
So what is it that set me off? Nothing in particular of incredible importance. A stupid man, shallow and forever doomed to be lonely, who cast me to the side with one glance at the width of my hips. To say this is a sore point for me is an understatement, and thus began a wormhole of emotions I had convinced myself had been left behind me. Unmeasurable sadness. Tears that won't cease and come out of nowhere. That nagging projector in my head repeating the incident every time I close my eyes, and the scrambling panic to open them and escape, only to realize the scene is still playing in clear daylight. That anxious desire to rip off one's skin and float into the abyss, escaping from the realities of my own misery.
This, of course, lent itself to that one unequivocal truth I seem to be learning time and time again: Be careful what energy you put out there, because all is a boomerang.
However this is the difference between the me of today and the me of angst-wridden years past - it is this awareness of exactly what chain of events I am setting into motion by staying in this place of despair. The knowledge that there is no one to blame for these soul-rattling incidents but myself, my energy, and my current intention to exist within this dark place.
Sure, I'm PMSing. My week spent with Aunt Flow has been known to move mountains, stir up devils, make Unicorns weep and my own dog howl and hide, yet I cannot blame this on hormones alone. Every experience is a test, or should be looked at as such. I had told myself (and quite a few others) that I had past my days of being a self-loathing mess, my unsteady foundation ready to crumble at the first push of rejection. Now that theory is being tested - just how past this am I?
Today I ****ed up. So caught up in my own mess I missed an engagement, one quite important, that may have cost me quite a bit. My dignity and self respect in a place I once viewed a sanctuary, for one, and another little chip of my confidence. As I sat in front of the mirror looking at my reflection, pondering the best way to run away from these problems, I realized there was none.
Demons come to test the limits of human strength, even in ways as seemingly trivial as these, and if I want to be the person I claim to, I need to face them. My mistakes, my misery, my ebbs. After all, the flow always follows.
It's interesting to reflect on the ebbs and flows of life. So simply had my flow come after the ebb, I had forgotten what the first was about. Life is easy to see as bright and chipper when everything is running smoothly. Throw a wrench in the cog, and the whole clock comes to a messy and jagged stop.
So what is it that set me off? Nothing in particular of incredible importance. A stupid man, shallow and forever doomed to be lonely, who cast me to the side with one glance at the width of my hips. To say this is a sore point for me is an understatement, and thus began a wormhole of emotions I had convinced myself had been left behind me. Unmeasurable sadness. Tears that won't cease and come out of nowhere. That nagging projector in my head repeating the incident every time I close my eyes, and the scrambling panic to open them and escape, only to realize the scene is still playing in clear daylight. That anxious desire to rip off one's skin and float into the abyss, escaping from the realities of my own misery.
This, of course, lent itself to that one unequivocal truth I seem to be learning time and time again: Be careful what energy you put out there, because all is a boomerang.
However this is the difference between the me of today and the me of angst-wridden years past - it is this awareness of exactly what chain of events I am setting into motion by staying in this place of despair. The knowledge that there is no one to blame for these soul-rattling incidents but myself, my energy, and my current intention to exist within this dark place.
Sure, I'm PMSing. My week spent with Aunt Flow has been known to move mountains, stir up devils, make Unicorns weep and my own dog howl and hide, yet I cannot blame this on hormones alone. Every experience is a test, or should be looked at as such. I had told myself (and quite a few others) that I had past my days of being a self-loathing mess, my unsteady foundation ready to crumble at the first push of rejection. Now that theory is being tested - just how past this am I?
Today I ****ed up. So caught up in my own mess I missed an engagement, one quite important, that may have cost me quite a bit. My dignity and self respect in a place I once viewed a sanctuary, for one, and another little chip of my confidence. As I sat in front of the mirror looking at my reflection, pondering the best way to run away from these problems, I realized there was none.
Demons come to test the limits of human strength, even in ways as seemingly trivial as these, and if I want to be the person I claim to, I need to face them. My mistakes, my misery, my ebbs. After all, the flow always follows.
