It's been a while since I've written here-even longer since I've published publically.
A lot has changed-I'm now a mother of 3 girls (3 yr, 20 mo twins) and a french (immersion) daycare provider. I'm fairly happy in my life with the exception of my emotional health. As someone put it, I'm «heartsick».
Yes, I'm still married and there are problems but help is being used; so really, it should just be a matter of time. It's the waiting game that kills though-waiting for Godot. Oh, Godot!
It's that hole in the pit of my stomach, my heart, my throat. Drowning it only works for so long...numbing can work too but...I ought to feel it, to relish in it...«war is a force that gives us meaning» anyway, right? Those feelings are what reminds us we're alive. It's not that hellish. After all, I've been through worst.
My body's catching up now...on all the sleep and rest I lost drowning & numbing. It was about...3 weeks of that? It feels good. Detox mode.
I'm trying to write more again. I am a writer. «To be a writer you must write».
I stopped full-stop after my diagnosis-after my recovery. I was scared to be brought back into the manic loop of questions that spiraled out of control 7 or so years ago. Despite its incredible helpfulness in the past, it was a trigger in that instance so i stopped. Writing is probably what kept me from cracking all those years...helped me process all the things I went through. I remember pretty much all of my past...endeavours? including those of the rave scene while many others I know have managed to block most of it out.
Are you kidding me? The rave years were my golden years despite my vices and delusions. I never felt so cool, so with it as I did then...and hey...it's a good training ground for how to deal with my kid @ that age should they have the tendencies I did.
«You're pretty much a 24 year old»
Yup. At 24 I got sick and much of my life after that has been learning to live with the «disorder»...learning how to live under the set of rules I was supposed to follow. Which, in the end, didn't make me happy because it just wasn't me...nor did I want to change. Balance, again is key. I don't want to fly into the sun...need to wear those shades and stay a safe distance. I got inked on my inner left forearm. This tattoo are what shades would have been to Icarus:
Listen Carefully. Act Accordingly.
It's what «God» i.e. my sub-conscious said to me at the pinnacle of my manic state.
After that, I was with that bf from grade school that was really into the clubbing scene. It was fun but...felt like I was going back in time...like I had already experienced all that in my raving years.
Then, I got married and had kids and have since lost myself. So here I am...trying again to find the real me. The me that's not just a caregiver and wife. The me that believed at one point she's a bodhisvatta...that me. The kundalini me without hurting anyone or making a fool of myself...a fun me, but cautious?
I need to find that 24 year old gynee...and grow from it.
This is my task.
This is what will get me through this. This is what will distract me from the Waiting.
Turning inwards. <3