Thrashing

It’s a thrashing day.  I’m flailing around internally, fighting myself, angry at myself.  I wish I could break things, throw jars and bottles and clocks — anything that would break dramatically — against concrete walls.  Just to see something break other than me.  So I could curse out loud and be mad at everyone and everything.  It should be a sound proof room because no one needs to hear that.  Because I don’t really mean it.  I’m not mad at anyone else, I’m mad at me.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt myself, but that doesn’t meant I don’t think about it.  Maybe a nice head bash against a hard wall would quiet the voices in my head for a while.  Maybe if I pounded my fists against existing physical bruises, I could distract myself away from the emotional ones.  I need something to make the voices stop, just for a while, I just need a break from self-recrimination, the endless examination of what I did and didn’t do and said or didn’t say.  Enough fucking soul searching, goddammit, I want a drink.  Several.  I don’t know, I’d probably be an ugly drunk at this point.

Change keeps coming at me.  Fucker won’t lay off.  I know I’ll be OK, this won’t kill me, even though it feels like my insides have been painted with a flame thrower.  Clarity, yeah, a flame thrower is all about clarity.  I can see a lot of things I was turning a blind eye to before, the way my fears are messing things up.  I can see now that I’m not in a good place to play intimately with others.  I’m putting up all kinds of barriers, holding myself in and pushing others away.    I love sex and connection but right now the idea of falling in love throws me into a panic.  All summer I’ve been pushing away and I’m just now seeing why.  And now that I recognize it, I know I just have to stay out of the game for a bit.  I don’t know when I’ll be ready to open up emotionally to someone else again, but I figure it will be when my need for that connection and my attraction to someone overrides the fear I have of falling again.

I’m not trying to be mean, not trying to hurt feelings or ignore them but intent doesn’t matter.  I have all kinds of good intentions but my delivery sucks right now.  I’m in a super self-absorbed space and instead of talking myself out of that absorption, I’m going to go ahead and wallow in it a bit.  I’m going to roll around in my own shit for a while and hopefully come out smelling a lot better than I do right now.  Don’t worry, I’ll shower.

Me time.  Time to unravel my tangled emotional threads.  Time to write it out, write in my journal, write stories, write dialogue, write sex, write emotions and relationships.  Write crushes and break ups.  Time to let myself just be for a while.  Figure out who I am now and what I want.  Time to slow the fuck down.  Time to breathe.  Time for a passionate affair with myself.  Maybe if I can fall for myself again, I can get to the point where I can allow myself to fall for someone else.  I don’t know, it’s all a big mystery right now.

In the meantime, anyone have some stuff I can break?

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