Music is giving me life these days. So much good shit that I’ve opened myself up to recently or rediscovered; it’s only served to create deeper connections and introspection than otherwise, I think. I wasn’t sure what I was going to dive into, but there it is. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
36 – Fade to Grey
ASC & SAM KDC – Decayed Society
Morrissey – Bona Drag / Viva Hate
Wanderwelle – Lost in a Sea of Trees
ASC – The Outer Limits
Autechre – NTS Session #4 / Chiastic Slide
Warmth – Parallel Remixed
Talvin Singh – OK / HA
BØRNS – Dopamine (I blame Sarah.)
Lo Moon – This Is It / For Me It’s You (single)
Depeche Mode – Songs of Faith and Devotion / Ultra
Gunship – Dark All Day / Gunship
My Brightest Diamond – A Million and One (Also Sarah’s fault)
INXS – Live Baby Live
All over the place, I admit, but take a look around; maybe instead of giving me life, it’s simply being sung.
Tom asked me today how my headspace was and I wasn’t exactly truthful: I had to temper a few things. Later. I’m heading out to see him in March and it will be much needed.
I haven’t been sleeping lately. My sleep schedule is all fucked up, my head is all fucked up, and I am almost literally gestating – into what, I don’t know. I feel … a lot of things, almost none of which are the same as a week ago. This is a new brand of volatility, the by-the-week variety that brings with it moments of clarity and peace that seem almost apocryphal, and it has me by its teeth.
I wish I could write about where my head has been the last week but I can’t. No one is served well by the lights except me. And for this morning, in this universe, that will have to do.
I feel something, though. Something old and new, like a god from the earth. I’d like to think I’ll tell her someday, but I think she already knows.
I feel like I can breathe. Today was the first session I had with my new therapist since, well, yeah. I think this move – the changing of hands, I mean – was a good one. That’s not a knock on my previous guy ’cause he helped me get where I am today, but recognizing that you need more is a self-care signpost and I’m glad I paid attention.
Spanish class started in earnest this week; this is the last half-term of the four-classes-in-a-row juggernaut of the second-language requirement of my degree and having focused exclusively on a foreign tongue for the last six months, I’m looking forward to having this done. I love the language, the people, the culture – and of course, the food – but I’ll be glad to switch it up and move on. I have some decisions to make there, too. Gotta figure it out, and quick.
I’ve got a lot of things to figure out, really, with nothing more detrimental than indecision. I have much to meditate on there.
The last few days haven’t been good, emotionally. I haven’t been in a good place. I’m feeling like I can pull myself out of that now, but I have to act. I have to move. I have to progress. I see that now.
Just a quick note here, ’cause I’m not really in the mood to do a bunch of out-laying.
I’m not in a very good headspace and I gotta work out of it.
You know what, tonight I’m gonna sit in it. Tomorrow I’m going to dive into music and Spanish class. Fuck this shit.
It’s about 2:00 AM on Sunday morning; I got back from Ascension about an hour ago. I’ve got a flurry of thoughts in my head about how best to use this time, this energy, this place for creative outlets. Funny how seeing Robin and Julie do their thing made me crave the stage. That’s another thing I just kinda let go, but I’m not going to let the guilt creep in. Here we are, let’s work with what we have. So, I decided to take some old Irulan tracks that Spencer and I worked on and give them a revamp, an ensprucening. I’m hopeful that gives me a platform to stand on. It has before, it will again. They’re old to me, but nobody’s ever really heard them, so fuck it. Let’s go.
We had a long talk today and it felt fruitful. I need to be careful, though, that I don’t read into the warmth that follows understanding. We seem to agree on most of the major building blocks and I believe her when she says she doesn’t want this to get nasty. I don’t either. The thing is, despite the potential for bullshittery, I trust her. I know she has her own, and Reza’s, and – in her own way – my best interests at heart.
She revealed a few things today that were important for me to hear and I let her know how kind it was for her to do so. I know it wasn’t easy for her; god knows she doesn’t want to relive the things that cause her pain. But I need to hear them just as much as she needs to say them because I don’t want to be left with a nebula of misunderstanding and supposition. That’s not cool to me. It felt good, though, to talk without hedging, to speak without bracing, to be tactful yet direct about very deep wounds. I need to be careful here, too: If I’ve hashed it out once, no need to revisit. This isn’t a dissection, this is a clearing of air, and no justice is done by cutting open the veins. Address it, speak your mind, then move on because you both need to heal and neither of you can if you keep picking.
I’m sad tonight. It felt good get out, but the sadness remains.
I’m going to go on a hike this morning, so I need to try to get some sleep. We’ll see.
… and the corner is turned.
She’s gone. Emotionally, spiritually, empathetically, she’s gone. She’s been gone for a while now, I just didn’t see it. For the last (almost) two weeks, I’ve stopped trying to retain it, to get it back; it’s clear now that I wasn’t going to succeed and that I didn’t have a chance. I just want her to go so I can mourn and heal and grow.
There’s only so much asking a person can do before the silence becomes an answer. This has been a phenomenal growth process, though, and I’m a much better person for it. I recognize now what I deserve, that I’ve put my feelings and needs on the back burner for so long, completely losing myself in the process. I have played the long game, provided patience, kindness, love, appreciation, devotion, acceptance, forgiveness, empathy, and hope, only to be met with distance, dissonance, rejection, admonishment, fear, anxiety, silence, and doubt.
(No, that’s not all I was met with. Yes, I understand that. But I’m at the anger stage and some of this shit just isn’t right. It’s not.)
Bottom line is, I refuse to be second best to the idea in your head.
So, go. Please. I need to grieve.
I’m starting to see a bit of light.
I try very hard to be objective, to seek the recognition of the reality in situations where I am predisposed to blindness, either through atrophy or willfulness, assuming I know where those blind spots are. And in many cases, I simply become aware that I am ridiculously unaware. That used to bother me, not having the answers; I’ve historically subscribed to the idea that there is an unassailable truth in all things, whether we see them or not, and if the truth can be divined, we do ourselves a disservice not attempting to seek it. Of course I see the fallacy in both the subscription and the attempt, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.
What I’ve come to appreciate over the years, is that we all have our own truths – that your truth is different than my truth – and they are all equally correct. The truth of your pain isn’t affected by the truth of my hope, because while they can see each other they have no impact except to debase and resent each other’s presence. How can your hope exist when my pain is so great? How can your pain remain when I hope?
And in this we become blinded by the mask of intention. My intentions are kind, but yours are misguided – because you can’t see the whole of my truth. So why, then, are we punished for our blindness?
It’s a curious notion that I need to contemplate more, because understanding creates balance for me, an acceptance that moves beyond simply knowing a thing to embracing a thing, forgiving a thing, loving a thing – simply for its purity.
Why does this matter? Because I’m starting to understand.
(Side note: Explore the idea that growth is always linear when viewing the past, but never linear when assessing the future.)
Understanding is different than justification, of assuaging one’s perspective and massaging it to feed our ego. I do that sometimes. But when we’re finally able to plumb the depths of that understanding to find the base – that spotless, infinite, and invariable glass of our conscience – understanding can rest there without fear.
And what do I understand?
That I really had no idea. That truth changes, through will and chaos. That the quest for understanding without achieving it is, itself, the understanding that creates awareness. Wonderfully circular, isn’t it? In other words, we have to be blind before we can see. There is no other way.
I don’t think I like that last aphorism. It sounds too biblical. But it’ll stay.
I dunno. I need to build confidence in my thought processes again. I need to think more. Because the more I think, the more I come to recognize the truths in all of this.
I started riding again a few days ago. It’s felt really good. I about had a heart attack riding up Washington today, but I did it, and now that I know I can do it, I can’t not do it. So I think I’ll be riding my bike to AA from now on, ’cause that’s just dumb not to, especially with the parking situation in the new space.
I’ve got to jump on some work this week in preparation for heading to Santa Rosa next week. On one hand it feels nice to get back to it, but on the other, damn it’s been awesome not having to stress it. I’ve had plenty of other things on my mind, frankly. I’d hate to have had to navigate this while trying to hold down the work front. In that, this couldn’t have been better timed. Weird, I know.
I feel gross physically. I’ve let myself go and I’m keenly aware. I don’t have a lot of confidence in this space at all and I really want to. I’m going to need to, one way or the other.
And that’s the other thing, as I wax philosophical about linear progress: I have by no means been strictly linear in any of this, but I’m starting to see classic themes emerge. Right now, I’m bargaining, I’m still denying some things. But I’m recognizing certain actions, small tokens that would once have brought hope or a desire for more, as clear signs that I’m just now coming up to speed to what has been a reality for months. I’ll get to acceptance which will bring kindness and resolve in it’s wake… get to being the operative phrase.
I know this, though. I am still heartbroken and I will be for a very long time. But it’s almost time to get off the mat.