i've been thinking a lot lately. i don't really know how to describe what i've been thinking, though. words fail me. i've never really felt like i'm good with words. no matter how hard i try i never feel like i can actually capture what i'm thinking or feeling. people tell me i'm a good writer so i guess i'm just bad at seeing it.
i'm trying hard as hell to keep looking forward. i keep telling myself that i'm only a few months away. which i am. it's really not a lot of work i have in front of me. it's just scary, and difficult. anxious. scary, difficult, anxious work.
i'm in a weird kind of vortex of opposites. i feel hope but at the same time despair. i'm sick of myself but there's a growing self esteem, maybe even pride. every day i'm more and more convinced that i can never change but every day i do more and more to change. the only real place i'm failing right now is creatively. can't write, can't do anything.
you know what's weird? i bought clothes. weird to say that's weird, but for me, it is. most of my wardrobe is years old and so horribly worn-out that i'd never wear it in public. which has been fine, because i rarely go out anymore. a couple good shirts and pants have been enough. but now i'm thinking about how i want to look when i'm out in the world. i haven't done that in a long time. even bought some pins for my jacket, a watch, a new wallet. some flannels and i'll be grunge chic in no time, hah. fleabag style to match my fleabag hair.
meditation has been the only relief from the tired, aching, tug-of-war going on in my mind. i used to be so bad at it, so bad at just decompressing, just relaxing my body and mind. but i guess practice makes perfect. meditation used to just be trying not to follow the thoughts dragging me in every direction, but now i feel myself actually falling into myself, going deeper and deeper. i dive and dive until i reach a point where i feel like i'm falling, and my body jerks like it does sometimes when you're drifting off to sleep, and suddenly i'm in myself, completely aware, at the depths of myself, in this black and calm place that i've never felt before. i feel the shadow of a smile fall across my face. even when my bell rings i don't want to stop, an hour in i don't want to stop. and when i finally do open my eyes, everything is nice. it's hard to tell where the air ends and my skin begins. when i step the earth rises to meet my feet, and when i sit it buckles into a pillowy cradle, holding me like a child would a kitten. i don't even think anymore. i just am.
i'm trying to talk to people. had some difficult conversations with an old friend and at the end we promised to try harder to stay in contact. she has, and i have too. i'm glad to be talking to her about more than zebras. but i haven't talked to another old friend in nearly two months now, after we ended the last conversation in an abrupt and, well, slightly violent way. and so far i haven't really missed him. which scares me. because i've always missed him. if i talk to you, thru email or whatever, expect a message from me soon. i'll get to it, i promise you.
i've written a lot before about loneliness and so i won't write about it again, because i don't have much else to say. i just have to keep working on myself. one day i'll be the person i want to be, the person who can love myself as well as someone else, and the person who deserves to be loved by someone else, and by myself. the thought of that hope brings a tear to my eye.
but so does the thought of the despair.