Writing Again. Again.

     It’s been a a long, long time since I’ve written. A long time. Years, even. But here i am again, thinking about what i should write about. I’ve got a single installment of “Dream of the Raven’s Gate” to wrap up and post and finally complete that damned thing.  We’re coming into the holiday season so i could write another Halloween story, or another installment of Black Friday, or hell maybe even an Angus tale. 

But I’ll start with this. 

Fucking Feelings

It’s been so long that i can’t even remember the last time i gave anyone an update about my life. But in these days post-social media nonsense, i feel like nobody actually needs an update on my life. It’s my life. It’s a little complicated, a little easy, and always very deep in emotion. But sometimes things come up  that are worth sharing, and this one feels like it might be that. You be the judge. 

I’m am so tired of talking about my feelings. So tired. Every time I dig down to be able to express what it is I want to express, I discover yet another goddamned stone I didn’t intend to turn over. But there it is, lying in the sun in its shallow grave, belly up and exposed. Thus it needs to be picked up and turned over and over. And over. 

And over. 

A typical conversation about my feelings goes like this:

“I feel this way. I think it’s because ‘Reason x’ and I’m doing these things to work on that”

Pause. 

“Actually, ‘Reason y’ seems to be contributing to the way I’m feeling, not just ‘x’. I’m not sure how to deal with ’y’ just yet so I’ll put a pin in that and think about it until I’m ready to feel it. Then i will and we can talk some more”

A few minutes later…

“As i think about it…”

And this is how it goes.  Eventually I’ll get to the story from my childhood about something that didn’t SEEM traumatizing until viewed through the lens of time and experience. And then I realize exactly how traumatizing my childhood was. And then I realize how traumatizing all my previous relationships were. And THEN I realize how poorly I recovered from all this. Somewhere in the middle, I spiral down into realizing how poorly I responded to all these issues in the past: Setting boundaries, protecting myself with anger and rage and hate, and bottling up the emotions so i could examine them later. You know…intellectually.  And as you know, thinking is as long way from feeling those emotions. 

So i keep my emotions buried and deep. I put them in little isolationist jail cells, and i call them my monsters. And then I learn to believe that they are important to who I am as a person. 

But who the fuck keeps betrayal and hurt and disappointment close to their heart just to not  forget what it feels like?  Fucking broken me, that’s who. And I’m tired of it. So I’m trying to let all that shit go.  Can you guess the spoiler here? 

It. Is. SO.  Fucking. Hard. 

But with people in my life who understand, and hopefully some therapy with a human therapist, I’m going to get through all this shit.

It’s time to grow out of these childish fantasies of tapping that hurt to protect myself in the future. It’s a lie I’ve told myself for decades. 

And I’m tired