my thoughts below are just that, my thoughts and observations, and as such, as all thoughts and observations, represent only a part of the whole and when dealing in parts, one can be mislead as to think the part is the whole or even that the part is the majority--I write what I write without filter, without edit, in order to document--some of what I document is insignificant, but it is impossible to tell in the moment without the benefit of time to judge what is important and what is simply a passing mood state, normal as sunshine--what is written below is my thinking out loud, of trying to capture, as it happens, various mental states that may or may not be related to the meds--but all the same, for the sake of completeness, to the best of my ability, to capture, to document, to amass all data without critical or editorial influence--having said that, as of this morning, I feel as I have the last few days, which is to say perfectly normal with an expanding emotional range, which is both pleasing (a return to my old self) and a concern (a return to my old self)
odd and interesting start--I don't know how to describe what is occurring--there are very discrete, and short-lived, moments, these moments appear as an image in my mind and a hollowness in my chest, which I can only describe as staring into the abyss, of being on the edge of darkness as on the edge of a cliff, at night, wind blowing, everything shades of blue and there is a very real sense of being one step away, one step from the ravine, and there is swirling and my hair is longer than before, like a flag in the wind, pulled forward and I am wearing a greatcoat and it too is flapping in the wind, toward the edge, toward the bottomless ravine--these moments, and they are just moments, perhaps less than a second maybe a little longer, are as clear as memory of yesterday--when these moments occur, when the images appear in my mind, there is nothing else and the feeling is the same as when caught timeless within a movie, completely suspended from time as we know it, absorbed completely, in every literal sense--these moments are more lucid than a dream state, even more alive than just a memory although I am not sure exactly what that means other than to say, these moments, these images, experiences, are beyond the clarity of normal thought, as if something more than just thought
the second odd occurrence, and I wonder if this is not somehow related to the above, there seems to be some overlap--and the feeling is as a car that is starting and stopping--running perfectly fine one moment and then coughing and hiccuping the next, or simply dying, the engine cutting off unexpectedly, just dead, and there is an eerie quiet in the stillness, as when coasting or gliding--what I am referring to here, again, are very discrete moments, but so unlike anything I've ever, at anytime, experienced, as to be notable and noticed, to have turned down a street I've never been down before--I'm beating around the bush, no pun intended--the fact of the matter is, for the first time ever, a sexual thought occurs without any corresponding physical reaction and the only way I can describe it is the way music over the first thirty days simply fell flat, no emotional response whatsoever, rendered, it seemed, as if I was completely tone deaf--and in this way, these very discrete, very short-lived moments exist and I note them only by contrast, by contrast of all my life--and to note this change, or this event, events, after coming off the last thirty days, is frightening--not panic inducing, but as if hearing a siren, a tornado siren, wailing and one becomes alert, sober, concerned and there is that interminable plaintive wailing and the uncertainty of what is to come, if anything is to come at all, and there is nothing but the waiting and watching and listening as the wind picks up and the skies darken and trees moan, scratching against the house
the third event of note: sensation on the crown of my head--last night, waking as I did with restless dogs, slipping back into sleep, the sensation was more acute than at anytime since the very first night and the sensation felt more elongated than circular, more like a knife edge than dull pressure, more like fire than ice, as if the top of my head were about to erupt, as if lava flowed under my scalp--the sensation remains today, more acute than before, less benign or so it seems--a constant companion
4 comments:
I find it interesting how aware you are of these things. It sounds as if it is something to keep an eye on, but you seem to be doing that extremely well. Lately you've mentioned that music seems to be more enjoyable and it is obvious your creativity has returned with a vengeance, however I have not heard you mention your love for poetry. Has that returned at all?
Thoughts and Prayers
Holding my arms out on the edge of the bridge. It is safe to cross.
Tight Hugs!!!
H
LotL, I almost made note of Poetry in today's journal entry. In short: no. I find I have no patience for poetry. I still try each day, read a poem or two each day to test the waters. Even read some I'm familiar with, that I know I liked before, yet still, I'm just not moved by poetry as I was before. I am thankful fiction has returned to me and I hope in time poetry will too, but as of now, poetry just seems like a whole lot of effort to say what could be said in a lot less words and a lot more clearly. My sense of melody within verse is still absent.
As for awareness, it is a double-edged sword, and, as ironic as this is going to sound, I am aware of my awareness and the danger of "too much" awareness or self-centered egoistic thinking. I am allowing myself the luxury to focus on myself in order to heal, but I am also aware that I need balance and I need to keep thought tethered, to know it as a tool, not as myself. Like walking a tightrope, so it feels to me sometimes. And there is always the fear of falling.
Don't worry about falling, I'm here to catch you. Focus on yourself and heal with no worries. One of my favorite quotes “Be Who You Are and Say What You Feel Because Those Who Mind Don't Matter and Those Who Matter Don't Mind.” Remember this, for it is the truth.
Tight Hugs
H
What my arms might miss...
Praise for your expressiveness, it could not not be said.
One thing you might like to consider is that having been in a dark place and finding oneself approaching or in a clearing, back in sunshine and breathable air, the thought of returning is more frightening than it would have been to remain. Perhaps the fear of returning, the questioning of just how secure the ground that you have been walking on these last couple of days is, is more acute for these reasons. Yesterday was an admittance of hope, of meeting the future with confidence that there would be good times, voicing and receiving comment could perhaps have made you more aware of the ledge than is necessary. Regardless awareness is a good thing. The more aware you are of what is in the background, and what is possible, the more actively you at the present time will be able to move away from one, work towards the other. Perhaps the clarity of those visions is a deep-seated knowledge of a state well-known and lived, understood and feared, and the other more so only a memory, further away, incomplete even, in the way that you have spoken of 'memories' within these daily entries at times. Behind is known. Ahead is yet approaching so to speak. The present is still somewhat tentative.
From everything you have written along with everything that I have seen of you over the past years, I feel it deep in my soul, not something that can be evidenced, but wholly trustworthy despite, right now is a passage, a completion, who you are and what you deserve are coming into focus, you will be stronger. I see it, in my mind, as your soul pouring back into you, purer, having let go of the things that clouded. Love and life, art and poetry, coffee and melody, all of these things (and all else) will be the richer eventually. I know, I know nothing. And I know what you write. And I am listening deeply. But when I think of you, right now, I think of you in a way that reminds me of the opening passage of Armstrong's book where he takes a leap into water. Life is letting you know you are alive. We never know what may come. But you are you, and I see those smiles up ahead clear as day, I see you breathing in the aroma of coffee, shedding a tear over the beauty of a lyric, rolling on the floor with the pooches, again without any evidence as such, I just know it, by everything, I sense your peace, your smile, a renewed approach, a easier you up ahead.
Apologies if anything here was too much or there were too many assumptions etc, was from the heart without filter to use your expression.
Love you dearly.
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