I'm not sure what's changed, if anything, but I'm feeling damn good these days. A sense of peace has settled in and I'm extremely content with how things are going. Now, of course, there are things in the works. Feeling at peace doesn't = complacency, remaining stagnant, etc. But I'm just feeling overall happy about how things are going, where I'm at, and where I'm headed. Did the Tres Burritos ride today and fully expected it to suck. It didn't. Not at all. I rode out with a group faster than I'd ride on my own, but not craziness. That seemed to spur either 1) my competitive side (don't think so, not w/cycling), or 2) kicked me into gear (yes, yes) and while I kicked back a bit after riding w/them the first 20, a couple of the guys waited up and we continued to ride at a pace a bit above what I'd prefer given the overall distance. I kept thinking I was going to pay for it once we did the huge jaunt back south into the wind. Instead, I ended up dropping the guy w/the South Australia jersey (oops.. seriously unintentional... he apparently fell off on one of the hills) and then the last 10 I was the one leading a slew of guys into the wind. Me. ME!!! I felt strong and don't know what to chalk this up to. 67 miles is farther than I *should* have been biking today, though apparently my body & mind disagree with whatever was saying it's too much. I did some 60+ rides prior to Mexico, but just short rides here and then since I've been back. Something culminated and THANK YOU! I'm tickled. I also am aware to not put too much stock in this... sometimes it's just all right at the same time. I still have a lot of training to do to have a strong 100 for the Mamma Jamma.
Touch. Oh, touch. I treated myself to a massage tonight. I've yet to figure out what is most pleasing to me about this. Yes, I DO love a massage. But I also love love love being touched. Sexually is great, but some of us are w/o partner so clearly I don't mean in that way about this. It just feel so frickin' good to have someone's hands on my body. Amazing. Similar to a hug. Huge fan of the hug and dammit, why do so many people suck at hugging? Is it that hard? Apparently. I feel like I"m hugging a robot 1/2 the time. I get not everyone is in touch with their emotions, not comfortable opening themselves up, but it's just a hug. Then again, ahem... we know *just a hug* is what sparked a very torrid relationship not too long ago so perhaps I'm not giving it enough credit. Either way, I'm happy.
I'm happy.
I'm happy.
I'd love to meet someone. I do want a partner in my life. But timing is so very critical and eventually I feel confident the right person will be there at the right time. It's all good. Right now. I'm feeling antsy. Not so much about this partner thang... just a bit antsy in general. There are thoughts brewing in my mind. Where I want to be. Goodness. Total goodness. It's about time. ;-))))))))))))
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Of Asking vs Owning
Yesterday morning during a few minutes of open practice, I chose to do headstand. I so slowly pulled myself up into what I know to be correct and could feel some wavering, but this is ok, and after a short amount of time I came down.
This morning at breakfast, Tim commented about my headstand, something to the effect that I just needed to refine it a bit. My response was this would have been good info to have had in the moment. And I received another lesson in why he is such a great teacher for me. He said he could tell I was deconstructing the pose & concentrating & doing it, but that I hadn't gotten to the point of feeling confident and busting out into the full, solid expression. And had he come over and interrupted, I'd surely have freaked out, come down, something other than just staying with it. But he also said that this will come. At some point I will move past the trepidatious approach. My immediate reaction was that he's right. As usual, he seems to know where I'm at and offers the exact support at the right time, and also knows when to just be there. And I also very much believe in his belief in me - that it will come. And I thought, but when?
Something was stirred. As I was writing later today it hit me that *when* is now. I have it. This is in me. I've just been asking the same question over and over and over. My lack of confidence overpowers me and my body throws a question to the universe, "Is it ok for me to try to come up into headstand?" YES, KRISTEN, IT IS OK. YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU HAVE DONE THIS. And so begins the cautious rising of the legs, watching out for any sign of falling, and once up, holding it for a bit but not feeling secure, grounded, nor strong. And instead of elation, feeling that a favor has been granted by allowing me to accomplish something that was once scary to me.
I take issue with this. In the early stages, my approach was ok. To feel it out and ensure it's a safe space for me to play in. But now, I continue to ask permission over and over and over when it's been given to me already. And so it is with many other areas of my life. I dip my foot in the water, find it warm and inviting, then hop in. The next time, I dip my foot in again. Water is still warm and inviting, ok... in I go. To the water again. Still warm. One could logically conclude after enough iterations that it's safe to assume this body of water is warm and inviting. But no... I need to check it to be sure every single time, never just diving in and trusting that what it's shown me in the past will be there. So I can't enter by diving, nor doing a cannonball, a flip, leaping, anything that will elevate me or make it a new experience. It remains static & I cautiously lower myself into the pool while my growth remains immobile.
There was really a perfect culmination of two teachers. Sanieh saying to go to that area that scares you. To toe that line and step over into that space of discomfort, because it's from here that you'll grow, expand, and find what you're made of. I 100% believe in this. And Tim, recognizing where I'm at and respecting that I have to figure this out on my own. He can tell me to just do it, to own it, but this is mine to own. He saw I needed the tools a few months ago & showed me I already had everything I needed. And from that time he can keep telling me to grab the shovel, now I need the hoe, but really... it's up to me to figure this out and cultivate my garden in my own way as I want it to be organic, not filled with synthetic assistance that may make it look pretty for a while, but won't sustain what's beautifully growing and would cast a shadow that would kill the seeds germinating just below the surface.
So when is it time to quit expecting to be shot down? To quit asking for the same thing umpteen times when the answer given keeps being yes, yes, yes? And trust that yes will also be the answer the next time? When is it time to step into my own space, push myself a bit past my comfort zone, and thereby explore something subtly different, yet huge in the scheme of my psyche?
The time is now. With this, the time is now. Trust, move just beyond my comfort zone, and trust that my inner strength and resolve will continue to be there as they have been in the past. We are in control of our lives, our happiness, our peace. What we do, where we go, what we accomplish.. so much is in store for us if we quit asking for permission and own our lives. We are so strong and capable of so much more than we often think. But you'll never know unless you try.
The time is now.
This morning at breakfast, Tim commented about my headstand, something to the effect that I just needed to refine it a bit. My response was this would have been good info to have had in the moment. And I received another lesson in why he is such a great teacher for me. He said he could tell I was deconstructing the pose & concentrating & doing it, but that I hadn't gotten to the point of feeling confident and busting out into the full, solid expression. And had he come over and interrupted, I'd surely have freaked out, come down, something other than just staying with it. But he also said that this will come. At some point I will move past the trepidatious approach. My immediate reaction was that he's right. As usual, he seems to know where I'm at and offers the exact support at the right time, and also knows when to just be there. And I also very much believe in his belief in me - that it will come. And I thought, but when?
Something was stirred. As I was writing later today it hit me that *when* is now. I have it. This is in me. I've just been asking the same question over and over and over. My lack of confidence overpowers me and my body throws a question to the universe, "Is it ok for me to try to come up into headstand?" YES, KRISTEN, IT IS OK. YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU HAVE DONE THIS. And so begins the cautious rising of the legs, watching out for any sign of falling, and once up, holding it for a bit but not feeling secure, grounded, nor strong. And instead of elation, feeling that a favor has been granted by allowing me to accomplish something that was once scary to me.
I take issue with this. In the early stages, my approach was ok. To feel it out and ensure it's a safe space for me to play in. But now, I continue to ask permission over and over and over when it's been given to me already. And so it is with many other areas of my life. I dip my foot in the water, find it warm and inviting, then hop in. The next time, I dip my foot in again. Water is still warm and inviting, ok... in I go. To the water again. Still warm. One could logically conclude after enough iterations that it's safe to assume this body of water is warm and inviting. But no... I need to check it to be sure every single time, never just diving in and trusting that what it's shown me in the past will be there. So I can't enter by diving, nor doing a cannonball, a flip, leaping, anything that will elevate me or make it a new experience. It remains static & I cautiously lower myself into the pool while my growth remains immobile.
There was really a perfect culmination of two teachers. Sanieh saying to go to that area that scares you. To toe that line and step over into that space of discomfort, because it's from here that you'll grow, expand, and find what you're made of. I 100% believe in this. And Tim, recognizing where I'm at and respecting that I have to figure this out on my own. He can tell me to just do it, to own it, but this is mine to own. He saw I needed the tools a few months ago & showed me I already had everything I needed. And from that time he can keep telling me to grab the shovel, now I need the hoe, but really... it's up to me to figure this out and cultivate my garden in my own way as I want it to be organic, not filled with synthetic assistance that may make it look pretty for a while, but won't sustain what's beautifully growing and would cast a shadow that would kill the seeds germinating just below the surface.
So when is it time to quit expecting to be shot down? To quit asking for the same thing umpteen times when the answer given keeps being yes, yes, yes? And trust that yes will also be the answer the next time? When is it time to step into my own space, push myself a bit past my comfort zone, and thereby explore something subtly different, yet huge in the scheme of my psyche?
The time is now. With this, the time is now. Trust, move just beyond my comfort zone, and trust that my inner strength and resolve will continue to be there as they have been in the past. We are in control of our lives, our happiness, our peace. What we do, where we go, what we accomplish.. so much is in store for us if we quit asking for permission and own our lives. We are so strong and capable of so much more than we often think. But you'll never know unless you try.
The time is now.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Osho #32: Problems
I struggled for a couple weeks w/this Osho meditation & have written and rewritten this blog entry a bunch of times before finally deciding on just one thing. Think about how much you hear people complain. It's too hot or too cold or too humid or too windy. They're too busy or too over-committed or not energized or running a mile a minute and cannot slow down. We're always striving to be better than we currently are, to be thinner, fitter, to have more money, more free time, less worries, more vacation, more quality time, less stress.
My question to you is this: if all your problems were solved, would you then complain that you have nothing to fix, nothing to overcome, nothing to give you that sense of accomplishment, and are bored? Eh? Think about it. Welcome to life. It's not so bad how it is at this very moment, so relax, enjoy, quit bitching and breathe in ALL that surrounds you - the good and the bad which is often not all that bad when it comes down to it. ;-)
My question to you is this: if all your problems were solved, would you then complain that you have nothing to fix, nothing to overcome, nothing to give you that sense of accomplishment, and are bored? Eh? Think about it. Welcome to life. It's not so bad how it is at this very moment, so relax, enjoy, quit bitching and breathe in ALL that surrounds you - the good and the bad which is often not all that bad when it comes down to it. ;-)
Monday, May 30, 2011
Done.
I'm 99% certain, finally, that I'm going to sell my house. I've pondered this idea off an on for a looong time now. I mean, it's at least been 1.5 years that I've considered it. I leave that 1% b/c I reserve the right to change my mind, but I'm finally feeling it. Been waiting for this actually. The feeling inside that it's time, it's right, it's what I want to do.
Why? What changed? A few things. Tearing up my front yard has spawned a slew of thoughts, and when it comes down to it, I'm just not making the time to do anything to make this place into what I want it to be. Had I bought for a low price, then ok... it'd make sense to hang on, but considering what I pay for my mortgage + taxes, as a single person, it's a lot compared to the amount of enjoyment I get from it. I think it's a cute place. I wouldn't have bought it otherwise, but it also needs some work and I don't want to put the time nor money into it. It's a choice. I'm not being lazy. In fact, that's part of the problem: there are other things I want to do that are taking precedence.
I've stepped back into cycling. I'm enjoying it again. I'm loving yoga. I cooked this weekend and yum, yum, yum. I hiked with Scooter. I went to the pool. I went to a coffee house and did a bit of writing, then Brian met up with me and we chatted over some wine. In short, it's time to play. Houses come with a lot of work. I just don't want to put the effort into it.
I feel like every time I got close in the past to making this decision that someone gave me a long story about why I shouldn't sell. But ya know, we all have to make the decisions that are right for ourselves. It's not making me happy to know that I *should* be taking care of my front yard. I *should* be cleaning up the back. I *should* straighten up the garage. Well, that garage, that's part of it too in a sense. I don't want to own so much stuff. This is kind of funny for me to say considering that I live lighter than the vast majority of home owners I know. But really, I don't want all the yard equipment and things in the garage that are simply taking up space. What's the point?
Indeed, what's the point? Why own? If you're with someone, especially if you have a family, then yeah... I can see it. But why would a single female who makes a fairly decent salary, yet also owns a sick horse and doesn't know how to fix most things when they break spend the money on such a thing? I get that rent goes toward nothing. I do. But so do taxes in that sense. And there are the upkeep costs that when you consider the amt I pay every month for this on a single income, not making sense to me.
And I also feel I can stand on my own two feet and say enough with it. I know, without a doubt, one of the reasons I *had* to buy a place after Mike and I split was to prove to myself I could make it on my own. He had his doubts. I had my own doubts. And owning my own place, well, that was having the stability or perceived groundedness that I sought. And yet it's been more like a string tying me to something that hasn't felt completely organic. I forsee myself having another place. I'm not against homeownership. And maybe it'll be a fantastic thing where I meet someone and we go into my next place together. Or DESIGN IT! Now THAT would be awesome! I'd love to pick up something and remodel it into what I want, but 1) not this place, and 2) not on my own. It's kind of like kids in this regard. You can certainly be a single parent and many of them do a wonderful job. But this isn't ideally what I want. Kids bring so many positives, but I want to share that with someone else. Owning a home.. if it's a full-blown house anyway, I want that with someone else. My next place may be a townhome or something, but a home (at least an older one which are the ones that appeal to me) aren't for me right now.
What's next? Well, going to call Tues to have a few folks out to do bids on my front disaster of a yard. Need to do some painting inside. But you know... I don't have THAT much to do. Trim in the bathroom. Cleaning. But where will I go? Dunno.. I like the Far West area. I could live in Crestview. Love the south area too. Not really set, but I for sure won't be looking to buy. Not now.
99%? Yeah, but I'm feeling pretty damn good about this.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Osho #31: Experimentation
Huh, well, this Osho meditation is just so spot on for life. Experimentation? Hells yeah!
Do it.
Often.
With fervor.
Expect to fail, but try. Whenever you think you've mastered something, try a new approach to it, play with it, interpret it another way, do something to make it challenging, interesting, different again. As perfect as you may think it is, there is always some way to make it better.
If something isn't working for you, switch it up. You may come back to the original way, you may not, but don't play the same dull beat over and over, nor live life as a robot going through the programmed motions. Sometimes by experimenting you figure out why things weren't working before, you can make them better, you can leave them behind, but change it up.
Life isn't about the finality of things, that's death. It's about the journey. what you learn. what you do along the way. what you try. we learn SO much from failure. so so much. and accepting good enough is simply not good enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ .
Exactly.
Do it.
Often.
With fervor.
Expect to fail, but try. Whenever you think you've mastered something, try a new approach to it, play with it, interpret it another way, do something to make it challenging, interesting, different again. As perfect as you may think it is, there is always some way to make it better.
If something isn't working for you, switch it up. You may come back to the original way, you may not, but don't play the same dull beat over and over, nor live life as a robot going through the programmed motions. Sometimes by experimenting you figure out why things weren't working before, you can make them better, you can leave them behind, but change it up.
Life isn't about the finality of things, that's death. It's about the journey. what you learn. what you do along the way. what you try. we learn SO much from failure. so so much. and accepting good enough is simply not good enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ .
Come, walk with me as we scale the boundary's edge.
But what's over there? Am I welcome? Will I like it? Is it warm? Is it cold? Could I get hurt? Could I fall in love? Could I be attacked? Will I be changed? Will I win? Will I fail? Will I grow or will I shrink? Will I have to fight? Will I simply accept? Will it be gruesome or will it be beautiful?
Come. let's check it out.
But I don't know what to expect nor how to prepare myself.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Osho #30: Emptiness
On first thought, emptiness conjures thoughts of being without. My cup runneth over can't really happen if your cup is empty. The gas tank is empty, fill it. The bank account approaches zero, next paycheck replenishes it. "I'm feeling empty inside" isn't typically stated as a positive way to feel. Ahhh, but why not?
I challenge that emptiness is to be sought, valued, and guarded. An empty room may seem stark and cold to some, but isn't it really anything you want it to be? It's open for you to create. It doesn't have to be filled with furniture to be useful. An empty room offers space, possibility, openess. Maybe it's left exactly as is... it's a place to walk into and feel completely uninhibited, most decidedly NOT surrounded by all the crap that typically would fill it. Maybe it's a yoga studio. Maybe it's where cartwheels are perfected. Maybe it's a spot for a trampoline. Or, maybe it does become a more *normal* room. Regardless, emptiness opens the doors to all sorts of possibilities. YOU decide what goes in there.
Why can't a full life mean a life with a lot of emptiness? A life with a lot of freedom, filled with things that touch us & have meaning vs. *things* that simply fill a space. Think about music. Music doesn't pick up its bags and move on in, filling up emptiness; rather it flows into & through us as waves and sure as hell makes itself known. It can enter as sound and simply stay in the ear to be heard if we offer no open paths, bouncing back from whence it came. But if we allow some emptiness, it will find these open pathways and be heard, yes, but also felt, resonating into our awareness. Sometimes it scrapes the walls & causes pain, tears, anger. Other times it glides gently through offering love, joy, contentment. Either way, it leaves our open paths intact, whispering an entry into our memory, then leaving us with the most intoxicating emptiness to be explored over and over and over again.
I challenge that emptiness is to be sought, valued, and guarded. An empty room may seem stark and cold to some, but isn't it really anything you want it to be? It's open for you to create. It doesn't have to be filled with furniture to be useful. An empty room offers space, possibility, openess. Maybe it's left exactly as is... it's a place to walk into and feel completely uninhibited, most decidedly NOT surrounded by all the crap that typically would fill it. Maybe it's a yoga studio. Maybe it's where cartwheels are perfected. Maybe it's a spot for a trampoline. Or, maybe it does become a more *normal* room. Regardless, emptiness opens the doors to all sorts of possibilities. YOU decide what goes in there.
Why can't a full life mean a life with a lot of emptiness? A life with a lot of freedom, filled with things that touch us & have meaning vs. *things* that simply fill a space. Think about music. Music doesn't pick up its bags and move on in, filling up emptiness; rather it flows into & through us as waves and sure as hell makes itself known. It can enter as sound and simply stay in the ear to be heard if we offer no open paths, bouncing back from whence it came. But if we allow some emptiness, it will find these open pathways and be heard, yes, but also felt, resonating into our awareness. Sometimes it scrapes the walls & causes pain, tears, anger. Other times it glides gently through offering love, joy, contentment. Either way, it leaves our open paths intact, whispering an entry into our memory, then leaving us with the most intoxicating emptiness to be explored over and over and over again.
Monday, March 14, 2011
He was right about the onion
I don't remember the date, though it was sometime last May during the period of hell. I don't recall the neurologist's name, but I do remember his demeanor, that he also once had a bad cycling accident, that he was an older man, that he was very blunt & to the point yet also underlying that was much warmth, and that he was a natural teacher as we stared at my brain's MRI and he told me all about what he was (and thankfully, wasn't) seeing. And most specifically, I remember his comparison of my recovery to an onion.
I was told to be prepared. That recovering from a skull fracture was interesting stuff that could take a year, maybe even two, before I'd likely feel *normal* again. And I recall thinking, "Whaaaa????? Come on..." Now granted, I was in the midst of some bad stuff when I saw him and knew I wasn't flying through recovery as I'd originally been the first couple weeks, but I also didn't think a year or more was reasonable.
And yet here I sit almost 11 months later & know EXACTLY, and WITHOUT A DOUBT what this wise man was telling me. He said to consider this recovery like an onion in regards to the brain. That a few weeks from when we met I'd look back and realize I felt way more back into the real world. Then a few weeks from that I'd look back and think, "Ohhh...NOW I feel good compared to then" and so on. This constant realization and feeling that OK NOW I've stepped back into normal life would hit me suddenly and cause me to reflect back and realize that it truly is like an onion. There are many layers & closer to the center is the real me and my clarity. And these layers will slowly get peeled away, periodically. And to be prepared to keep feeling more *back* as the year progressed. But also to not be surprised nor frustrated if it took even longer than that.
I SO get what he means. I've been incredibly checked out of life. I finally feel I've stepped back in only within the last week, but with that said I'm now questioning what I'll think a couple more months from now. It's weird b/c in December I felt I was back in. Then I went out again.
I re-read a journal entry from last June to see where I was at mentally. June 14, 2010, a week shy of 2 months post-accident and what I was writing about is something I did in May the day my parents went home the 1st time & 2 days before I was about to stop taking the anti-seizure meds. I recall this day. Holy hell.
"...and on that night I ripped all my previous journal entries out and threw them away b/c after reading them I realized #1 so many of them seemed ridiculous & inconsequential & no longer the truth, and #2 the thought that if this were to be my end, I'd not want someone to come across the useless crap I'd written while taking care of my belongings. What a strange thought to have: I may die. What has to happen in our brains, to our psyche, to our will for us to concede and allow death to become a valid possibility?"
First, I'm sad I discarded those pages. #1 is BS - so maybe I didn't feel the same later, etc but it's how I felt and what I thought *at that moment* in time so it IS valid. And then that whole feeling of death. Sheesh. Not something I want to go back to so excuse me while I softly rest my hand on my heart to feel it beating as I often did during my recovery. To feel my heart beating at night and in the morning was nothing but a simple check that meant I was truly still alive in some form. I feel I've moved through, or am still moving through, a bit of a transitional period. Of figuring out a lot of stuff. Of a new awakening, awareness, and reality. It's surreal. Some scary $hit can go on in the noggin. It's also odd how any time I think of my accident, the thoughts go to my clavicle, the surgery, my plate, etc. But really... while that sucked too... the skull fracture is what gave me these feelings of death. The oozing of stuff out my ear, stuff dripping down my throat at night. And that horrible, horrible pain I felt even while highly medicated that made me think this is what Munch's Scream is all about and this is the start of schizophrenia. Ah, the brain. My little onion.
I've been out of sorts, continuing along, but struggling - in waves.. sometimes fine, other times less than fine, but really still ok as compared to even just a couple months prior. I am thankful for my life and have much goodness in it. Been having a really difficult time focusing & throwing myself into things like I used to though. I don't think it's that I don't care... it's something I'm unable to explain. I'm in major want of having someone's arms wrapped around me and just being supported & maybe that's one of the keys --> to feel that acceptance and support even if he/she doesn't fully understand all this. It's like I'm peeling an onion layer and handing it to someone who looks back and asks, "What is THAT? What do you want me to do with it?" And all I can do is blankly stare and say I don't know. I thought maybe you'd know. It seems like it was once useful, but maybe it's not so do we toss it? turn it into compost? play catch with it? does it even matter?
I was told to be prepared. That recovering from a skull fracture was interesting stuff that could take a year, maybe even two, before I'd likely feel *normal* again. And I recall thinking, "Whaaaa????? Come on..." Now granted, I was in the midst of some bad stuff when I saw him and knew I wasn't flying through recovery as I'd originally been the first couple weeks, but I also didn't think a year or more was reasonable.
And yet here I sit almost 11 months later & know EXACTLY, and WITHOUT A DOUBT what this wise man was telling me. He said to consider this recovery like an onion in regards to the brain. That a few weeks from when we met I'd look back and realize I felt way more back into the real world. Then a few weeks from that I'd look back and think, "Ohhh...NOW I feel good compared to then" and so on. This constant realization and feeling that OK NOW I've stepped back into normal life would hit me suddenly and cause me to reflect back and realize that it truly is like an onion. There are many layers & closer to the center is the real me and my clarity. And these layers will slowly get peeled away, periodically. And to be prepared to keep feeling more *back* as the year progressed. But also to not be surprised nor frustrated if it took even longer than that.
I SO get what he means. I've been incredibly checked out of life. I finally feel I've stepped back in only within the last week, but with that said I'm now questioning what I'll think a couple more months from now. It's weird b/c in December I felt I was back in. Then I went out again.
I re-read a journal entry from last June to see where I was at mentally. June 14, 2010, a week shy of 2 months post-accident and what I was writing about is something I did in May the day my parents went home the 1st time & 2 days before I was about to stop taking the anti-seizure meds. I recall this day. Holy hell.
First, I'm sad I discarded those pages. #1 is BS - so maybe I didn't feel the same later, etc but it's how I felt and what I thought *at that moment* in time so it IS valid. And then that whole feeling of death. Sheesh. Not something I want to go back to so excuse me while I softly rest my hand on my heart to feel it beating as I often did during my recovery. To feel my heart beating at night and in the morning was nothing but a simple check that meant I was truly still alive in some form. I feel I've moved through, or am still moving through, a bit of a transitional period. Of figuring out a lot of stuff. Of a new awakening, awareness, and reality. It's surreal. Some scary $hit can go on in the noggin. It's also odd how any time I think of my accident, the thoughts go to my clavicle, the surgery, my plate, etc. But really... while that sucked too... the skull fracture is what gave me these feelings of death. The oozing of stuff out my ear, stuff dripping down my throat at night. And that horrible, horrible pain I felt even while highly medicated that made me think this is what Munch's Scream is all about and this is the start of schizophrenia. Ah, the brain. My little onion.
I've been out of sorts, continuing along, but struggling - in waves.. sometimes fine, other times less than fine, but really still ok as compared to even just a couple months prior. I am thankful for my life and have much goodness in it. Been having a really difficult time focusing & throwing myself into things like I used to though. I don't think it's that I don't care... it's something I'm unable to explain. I'm in major want of having someone's arms wrapped around me and just being supported & maybe that's one of the keys --> to feel that acceptance and support even if he/she doesn't fully understand all this. It's like I'm peeling an onion layer and handing it to someone who looks back and asks, "What is THAT? What do you want me to do with it?" And all I can do is blankly stare and say I don't know. I thought maybe you'd know. It seems like it was once useful, but maybe it's not so do we toss it? turn it into compost? play catch with it? does it even matter?
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