#feeling vulnerable

Chair?

it hits you on the way home. it always does, and its cruel, because two hours ago you were laughing and smiling so much your face hurt. how does the coin flip that fast?

it’s cruel the way you never forget where you came from. the way its never just you, but always you as the cage for what shaped you. or maybe its the other way around, and you’re trapped in the cage. you never could tell. you write a little more in hope of making sense of the chaos, think about poems you wrote ages ago, how you’re undeniably better than you were then but they’re starting to feel like home again. how cruel is it that pain gets the term home without hesitation?

and you can still feel the fingers on your scalp, so soothing and gentle, but it’s not their voice running through your head. it’s not the soft i love you’s you’re almost starting to believe, its the steel and thinly veiled aggression that raised you. there are so many things you’ve worked so hard not to be, but they’re always there at the edges of your vision, begging to be let back in.

you’re cross legged in the kitchen, alone. drinking capri sun and liquor, and less than half of dinner. you pause the crying just long enough to take a call, say goodnight, i love you. then back to it, shivering and shaking, staining tissues bright red with the excuse of at least its on my terms. somehow always manage to skirt around the issue, never really answer the question. the last time you dug those crescents into your arms they stayed for two days.

you buy an avocado and a loaf of bread at the store on your way home cause at least it means you’ll eat today. ice the marks on your neck. they were sweet when they happened but now they feel like you’re losing yourself, losing everything you fought to make into truth.

“We got stuff done when it got done. ... Whole days passed without knowing the time once. By removing time pressure things didn't just grind to a halt and tasks expand to fill the entire day, the tasks got done with greater presence. Things got done with actual care and attention and no rush. I was probably more aware and engaged and present over the past week than I have been for ten years.” —Simon Clark (“Unplugging from the internet”)

I'm tired. I wouldn't necessarily say I was *burning* out because it didn't feel like there was much wood left to burn. I just...need a break. Change gears. Step away from social media...again because something I've noticed over the year I've had this blog is that I've been increasingly affected by FOMO and feeling behind whenever I'm engaging in social media. Even if it seems as if I'm charting a clear path for myself when I do challenges and post semi-regularly, I feel as if my path is less clear. I only regain that clarity when I take extended time away from social media, and I would like to re-learn how to maintain that sense of clarity for longer without soon feeling the urge to either numb myself by scrolling, or put myself on display because apparently my mere existence is not enough for me to feel real in a more cemented way if that makes sense*... This isn't exactly goodbye. I'm probably gonna return to tumblr at some point because I'll miss my moots and all, but I think these extended breaks should become a more regular thing for me.