Monday, June 3, 2013


I know I only really write when I'm stressed, and I don't want to give the impression that I'm always in some negative place- I'm not. Writing helps me process and unload and unfortunately if you're an audience here you get a birds eye view of mostly my hard, raw moments.

Have you ever woken up and parts of yourself that you'd carefully cultivated were suddenly no longer a part of your personality? That you were capable of saying and doing things that the day before (and the many days before that) you'd never have imagined? Imagine things flying out of your mouth before your brain can catch up and warn you against it, before the exhale comes, giving you a chance to think about it, to reframe, to be clear and succinct, or to not speak at all. Imagine going from being soft and yielding, to having fuzzy boundaries and being overly accommodating of other people and their need to process and work through, even if it means you set yourself aside - to someone sharp and full of edges that are sharp and blistering at the same time, who doesn't look back and say, "I wish I hadn't said that," but rather thinks, "I guess they'll let me know if I hurt them."

This is me. I hate it.

And I love it.

And I hate it. It's embarrassing. It feels cruel.

And liberating.

It feels cold and too far off the edge of who I know myself to be.

And I let go of the things that don't serve me, and it makes me harder.

I don't want to be harder, I don't want to be so harsh.

At the same time, I am liberated by it, that I speak the truth without pausing to give myself permission. That I don't pause because the truth might hurt, but rather trust that if it hurts, we'll work it out.

I don't need permission to feel the things I feel, there is no permission needed EVER to feel. You just feel, or you don't. No one has the right to give you permission to feel what you feel. No one.

I sometimes think I am no longer fit for public. I often want to retreat deep into the woods, into a place of solitude, to regenerate my broken heart, to discover myself again because I am a stranger now, to learn where my edges are instead of constantly cutting myself on them. To learn to remember what gratitude felt like, what unconditional love felt like - because now what I feel most is intolerance, impatience, rage, apathy and an absolute unwillingness to make it more comfortable for YOU.

I feel bad for the hard things I say, for only a second, I feel bad, and there is no filter there any more. Whatever it was that stole the soft, understanding, compassionate parts of me that knew how to talk about feelings, knew how to address hard issues with grace and tact - whatever lifted those qualities from me, lifted my filters as well.

I am completely uncomfortable in this skin and I am literally incapable of being another way right now. 100% unable to shift it.  There is no where to be but here. If I could change it, I would. Maybe someday I can, but for now, I just want to be able to look at myself in the mirror, emotionally and spiritually, and be someone that I recognize. So far, I am still very much a stranger to myself.

1 comment:

  1. I could have written your third to the last paragraph. That is how I have been feeling for awhile now. I feel like I have been putting myself first a lot of the time and been pulling away from a lot of people lately. It is lonely. Yet in some ways I don't think I can deal with many people. It is like it has stopped being my job to make sure everyone is happy. Which is sad for me in some ways. That is how I identified myself. This person who was there to listen, to care, to make it all better. Who always had the ideas to fix it all. I'm not that person anymore. I feel like slapping people sometimes and telling them to shut up because they are being stupid. It is crazy, no?
    Where did I go?
    Is this just getting older? Are we becoming intolerant old farts? Is that what this is?
    I love you. I wish I could give you a hug.