I posted something last night that was a puddle-deep wallow in self-pity. The kinda shit that makes me want to bitch-slap myself. It makes me angry, you know, when I feel like that. I get angry with my own inability to express myself verbally, by inability to just spit out what bothers me. So I […]
I posted something last night that was a puddle-deep wallow in self-pity. The kinda shit that makes me want to bitch-slap myself.
It makes me angry, you know, when I feel like that. I get angry with my own inability to express myself verbally, by inability to just spit out what bothers me.
So I go mute – and the muteness makes me angrier. I’m angry and want to be left alone, when what i need is contact; I isolate myself from the treatment I need.
It becomes a cycle, a spiral, and the only things I can think to get me the fuck out of it require that I reach out.
Even now I’m thinking, fuck this, I want to delete it, I’m just fucking whining.
I’m in that teeth-griding state of low-grade irritation; I’m looking for someone to hit, metaphorically. I need to take the slow-boil of rage I’ve had sitting behind my eyes, in my neck and shoulders, and point it at something.
How many times have a written this same fucking entry? This is why I think I should give up blogging.
(and yes, i disabled comments on this entry, sorry to those of you who left lovely words here, it’s just one of those posts – I bet i un-publish this entirely sometime latter today)
Don’t quit blogging. Just do what you know you need to do. Silly. 😉
I understand. And hopefully this comment won’t make you angrier. But:
Is what you really want to stop rewriting the same entry repeatedly or to stop experiencing the same feeling repeatedly? The former, ceasing blogging will fix. The latter, it won’t. You’ve already said above you know what wll fix the latter. So, depending on what you really want…
Steel yourself and do what you need to do to get what you need.
I missed the last post. But I heard about it. Had some problems of my own. I understand. Think we both do. Bitch away. This is your space. Your time to complain. Write when you feel like it about whatever you want. And talk when you can.
Take Care.
First Fish: Morning.
Second Fish: Morning.
Third Fish: Morning.
Fourth Fish: Morning.
Third Fish: Morning.
First Fish: Morning.
Second Fish: Morning.
Fourth Fish: What’s new?
First Fish: Not much.
Fifth and Sixth Fish:
Morning.
The Others: Morning, morning, morning.
First Fish: Frank was just asking what’s new.
Fifth Fish: Was he?
First Fish: Yeah. Uh huh…
Third Fish: Hey, look. Howard’s being eaten.
Second Fish: Is he?
[They move forward to watch a waiter serving a large grilled fish
to a large man.]
Second Fish: Makes you think doesn’t it?
Fourth Fish: I mean… what’s it all about?
Fifth Fish: Beats me.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the power of words. When I was finally able to put into words the horrible things that happened to me, the thing I feared most happened — they took a tangible form. However, when they took form, they also took flight.
I can only share my own experience.
Hey Baby,
Don’t give up writing. Some days are harder than others. It happens to all of us. It’s the way the world works. A wave that rolls in and out. Sometimes the waves of the ocean bring us a treasure, and sometimes not. Sometimes the wind brings the scent of a flower- or for you, the scent of a woman. Hold on to your friends. They are there and will be there for you as you are for them. The writing is just one of the strings in your life. Just one. It’s there when you want it. Need it.