sadness in an eggshell, break it break it break it

I have been losing control.
I am frightened by the force of my lack of concern. I'm scared to feel depression. I have dreams that piss me off with their remembrance. I wake up exhausted.
I think back to over ten years ago when I spent every spare moment online, talking to my destruction. I can't do that now. It doesn't feel right; not even a little bit. And if I'm going to date someone long-distance then I need to remember to keep the distance. Devoting my life to the computer is only hurting me.
He doesn't ask it of me. I just do it. Because when someone likes me and I like them, I just want to throw myself against them until they are my entire life. This is not who I feel like I am. Where did it come from?
Are these old habits?
I don't want them. Thanks.
I am
so tired.
I don't know how to fix this. Fix me, I mean. Not "us." I mean I don't know how to sleep right, or eat right, or live the way I want to live. I'm trying. I try. I don't know how to love without hurting. I don't know how to do anything without feeling melancholy. I am not this person even though it's how I've been since puberty.
This is not who I feel like I am.
Sleep tonight. Please, I need to sleep. I need to feel like my life is my own and not something I just wander in and out of. I hate this murky feeling. I hate my brain not knowing what it is that I've just done.
This is me, me, me. It has nothing to do with you, you, you.

Since I got back from Florida I just haven't felt much like being around people. I've lost almost all interest in it. I'm not sure if I should force myself to be around them or if I should just accept that I don't want to be around them. I don't know. It was fine when I was making things but now that I'm just sitting around online, it's not good anymore.
That means I know what I need to do, right?
Less internet. More making. What about Shiny?
I want this.
I mean, phones are awesome for multi-tasking.

secrets were made to be shared

Let's keep it positive.
Wait, let's get positive so we can keep it positive.

I did that thing again where I wrote poetry in my head but lost it before I had the chance to commit it to something more permanent than my memory. I need a direct connection from my brain to screen. The paths in between are faulty and inconstant. My fingers make mistakes and the means aren't always there. And I need to let this be known; I want everyone to know.

This.

I moved my head against the cushion and I could smell him. Can't find it when I try; like something caught in peripheral vision. If I move just right then it's there. Can't find it again on purpose though.
I'm tired.

I wrote all these words above two days ago. Last night I had a dream that I rode my bike past Pants' house. I was wearing a sheet as a ghost costume. It kept obstructing my vision. I crouched down so I could go as fast down the hill as possible; as far away from him as I could get. I know why these images appear. Just like I know why I keep reminiscing about our empty sex.
Now I can see the hole of his presence in my life through a mutual friend. How do I escape?
I don't want these dreams and I don't care for the memories. Let's focus on something better. He brings out the crazy in me. He looks so calm but in his eyes is frozen insanity. He knows insanity. He grew up with it and lived it and where is he now in relationship to it?
It doesn't matter!
Another thing that logically I do not want. Another thing that I can't have. It holds no appeal, so why does it leave such trails behind?
It's another thing to bring useless sadness. Nothing positive. I just want to forget that he exists and that he ever existed in my life. I want normalcy. What is normalcy?

Writing it out helps me to process. I can feel a little better as I see how ridiculous these things can be. He was an emotionally abusive asshole and didn't even know it.
I've found what I was actually looking for. I hate to rush the sentiment but it's hard not to when so many pieces fit together. I don't want to substitute one thing for another. I don't want to give Shiny any less than what he deserves. I don't want to give Pants anything. I just want him gone from me.
I suspect he's fucking the aforementioned mutual friend. But it doesn't affect or concern me, right? Logically it doesn't. Why would I care? Is this a trust thing? It doesn't matter anymore. It wouldn't have mattered even when he and I were "together." We shared our past, not much of our present. And he has no future. So why bother?
We have no future. So why bother?
These are the things I must say to remind myself of how life is. How much better my life is. How much more certain my life is. It is. I have the ground beneath my feet again. No more walking on mountain tops. No more clouds in my eyes. I am grounded and gorgeous and I can see where I am going. Oh, it feels so good when I let myself remember to notice.
I struggle. Always.
But right now I struggle to remind myself of all the good in my life. Not the rain outside or my cut hours at work. Not the apparent sociopath from my past that keeps cropping up. He doesn't try to. My brain just naturally wanders to the morbid and perverse. Not depression. How about realizing how long it's been since I felt suicidal? Weeks. How about Shiny? He fits the missing piece from the puzzle. How about gratitude for all the things that didn't fit and therefore did not waste my time? Thank you. How about school? I love it. And my internship? Exciting.
How about my friends?
What about art?
And look, I still write.

Let's get positive. Let's keep it positive. Let's not lose sight of reality, but let's not let the fiction overwhelm us either.
Let's see what's actually there instead of what was or what could be.
Let's be positive.
I could go for something new.

you don't know where the rest of us live; you don't even look

As always, as always, thoughts follow me while I ride my bike. I've been tired lately. Tired and achey but fine. I found something and maybe I don't feel as much of a need to analyze my feelings anymore. Maybe I have different needs now.
I had a song stuck in my head as I pedaled to work. "One month to the day that you said you'd never change." I don't know why my brain loops on these things. I don't know why I force myself into melancholy. I don't feel it at my core. I think it's just habit. Bad habits.
Shiny and I ran into Pants at Whole Foods. Pants and I chatted for a few seconds, then he said "have a nice weekend" and rode away. It was weird. And good. He's so civil. I told my roommate and Shiny "he is polite because he feels it's the way he should be, not because it's how he wants to be. Or he's that way because people don't expect it."
I get confused sometimes about how I feel about Pants. I think mostly I'm annoyed and sad. A lot of things happened that didn't need to. But isn't that living?
He doesn't think people change. Me, I depend on it.
Do we all lie to ourselves a little bit to make the transition easier? To make any transition easier? Do we say "this is how I wanted it?" Do we say "I didn't want that anyway?"
I don't have doubts.
I get insecure and I'm still not sure why. I don't act the way I used to. I'm more comfortable in that way. I'm ok with me but sometimes I still worry about other people being ok with me. Why does it matter? When I can remember to think that, I feel fine.
Well, better at least.
Everything is an excuse for self-analysis. Maybe it's not a focus on my feelings but there is still a lot of thought. Always thinking, always churning, always always always.
Because I realize and accept that I may never again encounter the passion I once had years ago. I may never again feel an insane longing for someone that used to utterly consume me. These things have made me capable of great strength and great weakness. It seems that one typically follows the other.
I'm ok with finding my middle ground. I want to be with someone that suits me logically. I'm so tired of choosing people based on only half of my consciousness. Guess what; Shiny suits me.

Let's run away together.
We can find somewhere warmer; somewhere kinder. I'll draw pictures and you can watch me. You'll make sense and I can try to understand.
There's a problem I have where I meet someone new and I imagine an entire life for the two of us. I can see it stretching out and I witness our battles and victories. I immediately size up lasting potential. But let's remember that people change; people always change. That's a constant, isn't it? We can count on not being able to count on it. We can depend on uncertainty.
I am trying to learn how to go over the waves instead of steadfastly holding my ground and going through them.
People say, "it isn't that black and white" and I appreciate the reminder.
People say, "calm down" and I appreciate the insight.
People say, "this too shall pass" and sometimes I resent that. But only because there are some things that I don't want to go away.

When did I become so proficient at sad?

I would give up my words if it meant I could settle for happy. I'm so tired today, though. I don't get enough sleep and I don't see enough people and I don't eat enough food and I want what I want immediately. I want to enter a life pre-made for me. I want to just fill the space. I feel scared of everything right now and I'm exhausted by it.
This too shall pass.
I can't depend on anyone for anything, least of all me.
We are so predictable.
We are so unknowable.
My heart just tugs at all the wrong things. My brain warns it otherwise. Shiny, I'm listening for you. You know you're what completes this circuit. You know it will end in you? (and I mean this in a positive way; not in the way the things around this paragraph sound)
I mean, that's what my scenario tells me. I don't want to look for something that I've already found.

I'm so tired, so fucking tired, and I've been writing this story for too long. I've been writing this post for two days. I just can't seem to end it.
Would that be like letting go?

Some things I take too slow. Some things I rush too fast. What is the proper pacing here?
How do I just drift with it?

what if I get what I want?

Let's block our peripheral vision.
Let's see nothing but me
and you.
I can do this I can do this I can do this
so can you.

It's like this, let me tell you before I go too far: I spook easily. Or not at all. Sometimes I overanalyze and other times I don't look at all past the surface. How does that work? No wonder I get so confused.
Being positive, looking forward, having hope ... it terrifies me. There's so much more to lose when you're happy. Being sunk into depression, there is no other way to go but up. But being as high as you have the ability to get me, well, that's a long fall.
So bear with me here.

We don't even know each other. I'm getting cold feet. But I woke up this morning and the thought of you made me smile. I don't know how to let go. I don't know how to embrace you.
This is something that will change with time,I know. Joy said "worrying is trying to control the future" and she's right. I don't want to worry. I want to just ... float. And go with what happens. And like it that way.
I don't need to have my hands in every aspect of my life, moving all the pieces.
Relax.
Breathe deep.
And exhale.

undoing damage

I had to use a thesaurus to find more ways to tell him how I feel.
You can only say "I adore you" so many times before it loses its meaning. So let's break out some new phrases.
I'm sweet on you.
I'm smitten.
I flip over you.
I rate you highly. I hold you dear. I delight in you. I cherish you. I savor you. I marvel at you.
treasure, relish, appreciate, admire, revere, prize, venerate
and on and on
and on.
This is free and smooth and beautiful. This is young. I feel myself holding back. That is good at the beginning but I hope these bonds loosen eventually.

I am looking for the perfect picture to describe the way his freckles lay on his chest. Like a large necklace, or a cowl draped over his shoulders. I've never seen anything like it. I want to stare at his torso and design jewelry based on it. I want to draw patterns that mimic the shape.
I know that in absence I build up things in my head. I don't want to think he is someone he isn't. But I also don't want to hold back on feeling happy just because I'm scared of future loss.
I am so sick of melancholy.
Let's get excited. Let's hold hands. Oh my god, he holds hands with me in public. I bet he'd even kiss me in front of people.
It's been over a year since I've had someone who would do those things.
I bet he'd even introduce me to his friends.

a word of caution

A calm series of distractions. Cars just move out of my way. The hill doesn't kill me. The bumps don't hurt. I pedal and pedal and feel the muscles groan and bitch at me. I pedal more.
Don't stop me.
Don't get in my way.
I may slow down but I'm not stopping.

I guess what I'd really like to say is that I feel incredibly happy right now.

shiny

Turning inside out, falling in slow-motion. Breathe in. Sigh out. It's like this now.
The day after the night I got over the last person, I met fortune at the train station. This is how it works. Let's be positive.
"You're so cute!" "I know, right?"

I think of Joy and our conversation. "Worrying is just trying to control the future." I don't want to worry. I don't want to be scared to be excited. I want to enjoy this as I have it. And if I never hear from him again, well, at least I had a really great day.
A really great night.
Someone who liked me for my weirdness before he ever touched my body. Someone who watched Silence of the Lambs with me and liked it. Someone who made me come before he even kissed me. And here's the thing about that; I was scared to kiss him because of the past. Because the men I've met that I kiss or fuck just go away. They only see me as one thing. I want more. They don't.
It was so good to have someone initiate contact.
I felt so comfortable in his arms.
I just want it all over again.

I don't want to be scared to write how I feel just because I think it might all go away. This is not an "if, then" situation. There is no bargaining.

It's so hard for me not to just say "I want you."

pep talk

I guess I just want to write this while it's still fresh in my head.
I saw Pants tonight at a dance party. His head was buzzed and he had ironic facial hair. We talked some and our first conversation was civil and he was polite. The second one was quite different.
His guard goes up so quickly. I'm glad my last memory of our interaction can be him saying "I'm not enjoying this conversation. I'm going to walk away. I suggest you find something enjoyable to do" or something along those lines. I told his retreating back, "You're an asshole."
We had some kind of staring contest before then. I wouldn't look away. He did. I don't think he's used to that.
So there's this feeling of winning and losing at the same time. When I was leaving I saw him putting on his coat. He has a belt now like the one I have; all covered in bags. A mock utility belt. At least I left behind some kind of legacy.
But I must remind myself that it doesn't matter. This bitterness does nothing for me. It's a habit that I'd love to break. I would have liked for our conversations to be nice and pleasant but I just couldn't do it. I had to know.
"Why did you apologize to me?" "It seemed like the right thing to do." "It made things worse." "I had a feeling that might happen."
I knew that the words I've been writing have been fantasy.
"I don't think fucking you would help." "You know that's not what I want." Or did I say "you know I want more than that?"
I just .. I don't want to feel this way anymore. I want to let it go now. I had my confrontation. I saw the coldness. I watched his posture close. I felt the wall go up. The man I loved is buried beneath so many defensive layers there's no way I'll ever reach it again.
And that's ok.
It's ok.
I don't need to relive this or remember this.
I had a very good night and a very good day.
Let's just hold onto that.

this isn't love, it isn't not love, it isn't what you think it isn't

Control. It all comes down to control.
Guilt and regret is wanting to control the past. Worry is wanting to control the future. My desire is control. My insanity is control.
I don't regret, oh no, and I don't even feel guilty. Not about Pants. I say, "I was only ever myself." I say, "there is nothing to regret." Do I believe it? Sometimes. Usually.
There is nothing I can do to change things.
That would be control.
can't make someone talk to me. can't make someone care. can't make someone see their potential. can't make someone live up to it. can't make someone want me. can't make someone love me.
can't can't can't.
I am not responsible for the emotions or actions of others.
Repeat until it doesn't hurt.
I tell myself, "yes, it sucks right now but remember how horrible things were when ex-otter left you? You don't hurt over him anymore. This will come soon with Pants."
I want to feel something for someone that reciprocates.
I want to reciprocate what someone feels for me.

Can't I talk about something else for a while?

take your time

it starts with a laugh and ends with me on my back, sobbing on my bedroom floor. Let it pour out. Were there even any tears? I touched the place on my sternum that used to ache. It hurts when I press on it and I remember the time you bruised my ribcage by rubbing the wrong place. I didn't want to draw your attention to it because I didn't want you to stop talking.
So baby, take your time with this thing you have. I am so bad at patience but I can't rush you. I can't even try. I imagine a broken heart with big black stitches. Yarn keeping all the pieces together. I imagine sending this to you with a note inside that says, "take your time."
I miss you so much, I miss you and I say it to my empty room. I miss you and I say it outloud to wake myself up but it turns out I'm not dreaming.
I wish for things that I cannot have. I wish for you and I keep my fingers still. I wish for you and do nothing.
What else can I do?
I daydream letters that I neither send nor write. I daydream bike rides we do not take. I daydream conversations we'll never have. I daydream a life where we are together and then I think of something else. That's how it always ends; a change of conversation. Make my train of thought switch tracks.
There is nothing to go back to, right? Was it all in my head?
What would I have had to look forward to with you? All I see is potential. All I ever saw was what could be there. All I saw was an end to your self-imposed suffering. I wonder if you even realize all the people that would gladly carry you on their shoulders if you would just let them? Once I was your crutch but you quickly pushed me aside in favor of a poorly-healed bone. Once I was your crutch but you turned me into kindling once you saw what was happening.
I can't predict you.
So I just stay away.
You knew this would happen. But you pushed forward anyway. We both knew better. We knew and ignored it and I miss being around your goddamn stillness with the writhing monsters under your skin. I miss being around your fucking cold eyes. I miss you looking through me at things no one else can see. I miss hearing you speak. I miss your voice. I miss your jerky movements and your songs. I miss your fucking knotted shoelaces. I miss untying them. I loved untying them. I loved you.
How many more times can I change before I get to where I'm going? Where am I going? Where are you?
Am I ever gonna see you again on purpose?
Are you gonna turn that lie into a truth? The one you prefaced with, "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't going to happen;" the one where you said you would see me again?
Don't think about me anymore.
I can't stand all this radio static.

three times, one day, no revision for now

Everything points to patience. Everything I read. Everything I live. Every piece of advice says, "be patient, patient, patient." This goes against my nature. It is a struggle but I'm not willing to relent. I don't want to give up.
Now I have these things that live inside of me. They bump into each other and create new ideas with their motion. They ... they multiply and they divide and they destroy and nothing can ever be the same again. Everything is changing.
Everything that was is something else now.
I had a night with someone. He was drunk and I was high and we made out for hours. I fell asleep beside him only to escape to the couch. He didn't see me in the morning under my pile of blankets but we cuddled when he found me.
Now I don't know what I feel. Everything felt simple but it's been complicated. How? How did this happen?
From where does this melancholy grow? How did it bloom?

I found myself crying this morning as I searched pictures of Pants. I saw him and I could pick out his back from a line up. How do I know I love someone? All I have to do is see part of them in a thumbnail picture and I know. I just know it's them.
I know the freckles on his arms.

And I don't want to anymore.

I haven't met anyone to take his place. There is no place to take. He was never really here and the sooner I accept that the better for us both. I dream of writing him letters but I can't stand the silence that is sure to follow. Or the blatant rejection.
And anyway, everything says "be patient." I can't rush anything. I can't force time's hand. I can't make anything happen. I am so tired of being impatient. I'm so tired of the trouble it brings.

There are still things that hurt me in a way I can't explain. It's a tightness in my chest. It's a lightness of breath. It's images that jumble into the faces of people that have loved and left. They form a single entity that I can't bear to look at. They form someone that could never be satisfied with me.
I have been researching what it means to be an empath. I think I am one. I feel like a liar. How can someone who's supposed to be an empath be so bad at communicating? That's the kind of empath I am. I didn't get to pick it. I just know things that I'm not supposed to know. I know things and sometimes I can use the knowledge in a way that makes sense. Other times it just confuses me. Mostly I get confused. I doubt myself a lot. It wasn't until Dru died and I started looking beyond what I could touch and hold that I was able to really focus on these feelings I had that were not mine. I could feel what other people felt. I wasn't projecting. I just intuitively knew what was bothering people and I couldn't understand that other people didn't do that too.
It's difficult and it's lonely and it's confusing and I'm never really sure if what I feel is true or if it's just what I think.
I have been looking for answers.

I can see who people could be, not who they are. It fucks me up. I do that with Nine. I see who he could be if he wasn't so insecure. but that's not who he is. He is insecure. I can't change that. Only he can. So why do I wait to hear from him? Same thing with Pants. I see many ways he could be, but he isn't any of them. I am still connected to him. I can still tell how he feels and deals. I can feel it and honestly? I wish I couldn't. because part of feeling what he feels is that I feel how he makes himself not feel. I know what he does to keep from acknowledging. I know it in a way that is knowledge and not explanation. I know and I wish I was disconnected too.
I'm so tired.
Put my brain to rest.

looking for the path of least oppression

I had black tea. I can feel it in my heart. My chest is tight and my breathing restricted. Why did I drink black tea? My head was fuzzy. I overstepped my boundary of moderation last night. I crossed that line. I don't feel bad about it. I'm just not totally enjoying my inability to feel like part of my surroundings.
I pulled out my paper journal today and wrote. I want to share it.

Why do I want to pull people places? I don't want anyone anymore. Not just for the sake of wanting. I'm getting better at not looking at everyone as potential partners. Not great at it, but there's some progress.
Pants knows he could have me at any time. So he doesn't want me.
I am available.
Fuck all of this. Let me open up my chest and bleed the pus from my wounded heart. Let me clear the infection and bandage the hole.
I understand all of their actions.
I understand better than they do.
There are no magic words. There is no switch to flip to turn things around again. Can't undo. Can't unsay. There is only forward. There is only consequence.
Do I care that I haven't heard back yet from Nine? A little. But I don't know why. I just like closure.
I like to know where my feet are. You know, where I stand.

I like not feeling touched. I like being outside of things. I don't know what changed me when I was gone but I haven't felt the same since I've been back.
I feel out of habit but I think that's ok. I am seeing it now. I can tamp it down and make me real. Tired of acting some way to get attention. I don't want it. I just want to be real.
Let me get excited. Let me fall asleep. Let me love. Let me be loved. Hold me. Just touch me. Let me do what I feel instead of being so causticly moved by others. Can I enter this network? Can I navigate its causeways? Can I stay on task? Can I be on top?

it doesn't matter.

I made a flowchart to show the ridiculousness of last night.
sometimes I wish that I used real names here because it would make things easier to remember.
dressed up aggressively. big tits, short skirt, thigh high fishnets and garter belt. wear that wig. don't outrightly flirt. just lean in and smile and don't give a fuck what people think. last night:
there were a lot of cute fun people in one room, in militaryesque costume.
I met a guy I thought I could like.
I saw a guy that I'd been thinking was attractive for a while.
I saw a guy that is in love with me but with whom I am not in love.
They are all friends. Like-guy can't like me because someone told him not to because attractive-guy likes me. But I don't want to get involved with attractive-guy because in-love-guy is best friends with attractive-guy's roommate. This is Providence.

I didn't mind. It was nice to feel pretty for a night, even if it felt like it was just because of the stupid-sexy outfit. He called me pretty.
He said that I was softer than he thought I'd be.
I don't even really like him that much. I'm not convinced he actually likes me.

I miss Pants.

I talked to Joy about him yesterday. We both had similar untouchable men in our lives. Opposite ends of the spectrum. It felt nice to have someone who understood. I don't miss him all the time, or as much as I used to. But I told Dot that despite all the shit I put myself through for him, if he called me up tomorrow I would run to his side.
It feels so dumb. I am powerless when it comes to him. I find it comforting in some ways. But it's also infuriating. I haven't been suicidal lately and I can't help but think that has something to do with not having him around.

This is so strange. How can I want something that's clearly so bad for me?
It goes against every ounce of reason.
There is no such thing as "next time" anymore.

forgo the notable exceptions

sallow, sunken, skinny, sick. tired. losing the ability to cheer up myself. hopeless. not about ever getting well; it doesn't stretch that far. just hopeless. lackluster. dull. deadened. non-existent. invisible. a nuisance. a bother.
depressing. depressed. disgusted. disillusioned. denied. delineated. dour. destroyed. defeated.
caught in a fog. lost in a daze. alone in a crowd.
inconsolable.
inconvenient.
inconvenienced.

depths

don't look at me don't look at me why aren't you paying attention?
where does this pain come from? my gut, my chest, the muscles and organs. joints. bones. not terrible, just uncomfortable. discomforted.
who are you?
an all-over kind of queasy. a full body nausea. take acidophilus. eat yogurt. take this medication with a small snack if nausea occurs. take with a full glass of water.
pee in this cup. you know where the bathroom is.
yeah. 5 urine samples in 2 months. I know where lots of bathrooms are now.
is it tender there? how about there? it hurts THERE?
everything tastes like bacteria. everything I swallow is harmful. I have things wriggling in my guts that want to kill me. my insides aren't my own anymore; they belong to something else.
they never belonged to me. I've just been borrowing them.
I am so very tired.
my period was supposed to start last week but this is nothing to worry about as long as there's no risk of pregnancy. I'm scared for it to start. worried about the pain. I know I'm not pregnant. I just don't feel like bleeding right now.
or ever, honestly.
take it. take it take it take it. again this comes down to:
wishing there was someone to hold me tonight.
wishing I had someone I believed to say "everything will be ok. this too shall pass."
and stroke my hair
and rub my back
and wipe away my tears.

there's just me
no places in between.

figure drawing

I don't like drawing naked men.
Men just aren't attractive like women are. Their genitals look gross unless they're aroused. They seem powerless when soft and threatening when hard. I was really into them for a while but I think this winter I am winding down. Am I entering another stage of lesbos? Am I gonna start chasing girls?
I don't know. I feel really uninspired by romance lately. I still dream about Pants but it's in a different way. I have those dreams of redemption. I have been having them about other people too. I dream that we talk and things are smooth between us once more.
I don't feel touched by much lately. I almost started crying today when the Beard said he couldn't hang out. I had really been looking forward to seeing him and I'm not sure why. I just like his company. I like his sense of humor and his crazy eyes. He's comfortable.
I've been talking to people in Boston but it goes nowhere. I get tired of conversations that dwindle. I get tired of nothing happening. I lose interest. I get bored.
I think I may be incredibly depressed.
Doctor tomorrow.
I just want to write something pretty before I go to bed. I've been so tired all the time. It's so hard to stay asleep. It's been so hard to wake up.

I painted a portrait of you months ago when I was caught in the throes of your affection. I didn't show it to anyone. I used a palette knife and broad strokes. I made you green and blue and gold and utterly out of proportion. It looked nothing like you, but I knew it was you, and I hid it among my supplies. I used it today as a palette. I covered your head in bright orange. I don't want to see your face anymore. I don't want any reminders of it. Of you.
I still miss you. It's hardest at night, like always. I lay in the darkness and try to will you back into my life. Instead I just deposit you in my dreams.
You would hate that I am writing about you.
It's not my fucking fault.
You're the one that tamed me.
Why'd you have to be so fucking predictable?