Lately I’ve been having zooms of past enter. They come without control, without desire.
I have tried to figure out why.
Not currently as happy as I want to be
A lull in my life right now
I’m wanting what I had
I wish I had of been better
Looking back on things longingly is kind of dangerous. There’s nothing I can do to get back there and it distorts my future. The future will always come even if I am not ready for it but I can lose out on a lot of opportunities if I’m not. Maybe some part of me is back to being half a leg in with my history. Maybe I’m straddling the past and the future because I am restless and wanting to make a big change and once I do it, my perception on what I’ve lived, will change. And maybe I will lose what I’ve learned. Maybe I want to remember the pain and the choices I could have made to have made it better. So that I don’t make the same choices now. Maybe I’m just beating myself up.
I don’t know how to control these images. They are activated so quickly and without warning. Sometimes I suck in my breath sharp. Not surprised at what I am remembering, but at the force of it’s loudness in my head.
I think I need to get more busy and set up a space where present thoughts can grow. Stability will make thoughts of my past less harmful. And that’s what I need to make.
I am standing on a solid
I didn’t have mere months ago.
I was swallowing the booze everyday
and wanted little to do with life
I am here.
I am feeling sure of many things
I felt no such thing 5 weeks ago.
I was wishing death was easier
and was angry because I couldn’t do it
I am here.
I am here where I watch the flower fluffs float in the sun down by the creek.
Everything seems to have a beauty.
There is a peace I’ve found just in pushing forward.
I wasn’t expecting this.
But this must be why I kept going.
I believe in me and my ability to love the changes I’m undertaking. I don’t know exactly where this came from. To let go of all the mistakes I’ve made and to release myself of guilt. To know that I don’t need to carry it around. I actually don’t. And if anyone in my past wants to hold things against me, to not even give me a chance to shine in spite of my bad choices, then I do not need them in my life.
I will live better without them.
I am here
and the love for MY life is greater because of it.
Sometimes it takes backing up into a vulnerable, helpless state to bring you down from the stable and comforting road you were walking down.
It takes those moments of confusion and desire to make the walk a more determined action. It doesn’t peter out, it crashes to a halt and then you’re ready and eager to boldly move forward. Again.
I don’t know what happens if those down moments don’t happen. Do you still walk on the healthy road? Or does it become more difficult after a period of time. Maybe it becomes easier.
What I do know is that the fall to vulnerable becomes further. When I choose to enter that mix of emotion, to indulge in the raw intensity of a connection, my stability determines the length of the fall. Today I fell with enough precision and hurt I thought, there’s no way I can do this again. It hurts too much. It’s the tears bursting out of my eyes uncontrollably, it’s the shake of my body I can’t help. The involuntary action of incredible feelings.
I don’t deserve the fall. I can stand up for myself. I’ve got to if I’m going to make anything of me.
Because when these encounters end- because they will- and I’ve given in every time, I’m the loser.I’m the one that thought it would make a difference for the better.
But like this, it can’t. It won’t.
And we both know that.
Do you ever have a pretty great day at work or at school and you come home to disarray, your child with blue hair and someone yelling at you? It’s an emotional punch to the gut and it hurts MORE because the drop from high to low is greater.
Like, come ON. You’re dancing on the way home to BPM and chuckling at yourself at how wrong you are with pronouncing the words and life in that bubble makes total sense.
Then you’re walking in the front door and that bubble pops.
And air is bubble so you don’t just stop having air. You’re in a new bubble and this one is fricken SUCKING in making sense.
But friends, I’ll have you know: that is lifes’ format.
Bubble after bubble, burst after burst.
and you must keep bubbling along accepting the crap ones as what they are while figuring out what to do with the idiot bubble remnants on your clothes. Sometimes we dust them off, sometimes we take the clothes and place them straight in the washing machine, other times we get completely new ones.
Whatever way it is, the quicker we do it the less time it takes for a bright, pretty great day of a work bubble to float into our life cycle.
There’s still an air of change that the strands of my hair can feel. This is one of those braver, launch out to the world posts- where as two nights ago I was on my bedroom floor, my eyes leaking a fresh batch.
It is not a rolling lawn, hilly field scene. It is cliffs, jutted out rocks, grass and sand.
I walk the grasses of eager and strength and without even having time to lose my footing, I’m falling down a hole that has sandpaper walls.
I’m getting tired of these frantic and draining surprises.
It’s not like I’m getting better at them.
I’ll have to make the necessary adjustments, realign my path and try something different. I cannot continue doing the same things and expect a different outcome.
Hence, the change my hair strands can feel.
I just got back from your house. You called me this morning right after church and I was very very surprised. And happy. We’d texted a few texts the day before, but still.
I asked ” Can I see you today..tonight? ”
You were quick to say, ” Yeah, call me when you get home.”
So I did.
And then I was driving over to your house.
We didn’t stop being shoulder to shoulder,hip to hip.
I hardly wear much make up there anymore because I know it’s just going to fall off anyways. I’m always emotional.
I left in tears. I can’t explain it. I’m supposed to be happy. And I am- that we spent that time together. That you wanted it too. I soaked in so much of it. As if I could physically hold you so close that you’d pop right into being my boyfriend again.
I don’t know if I can keep seeing you like this if you haven’t forgiven me or if we are not going to date. I asked you today if you had forgiven me. And you were quiet and said my name. The response was as if you had, but you didn’t say it.
It’s supposed to take time, I know. And I struggle with accepting the fact I just have to hurt until whatever the conclusion is.
I’m running after my heart and I have to be that vulnerability, that ache of unknown, it is paying for my choices- to really feel and know the consequences for my actions.
It’s a way to get better.