Swallowed a fly
perhaps she'll die
Summer has been cool and rainy, and for once I can say that I’m enjoying it. With the passing of my birthday soon it will be the down swing into fall. Our societal seasons do not align with the natural seasons, and it’s jarring. My truest heart’s desire is to be able to live close to the earth, wake with the sun and live with the seasons. I ache for this simplicity, yet the reality of life is not so simple. Work and the endless cycle of earning and spending money. The unnatural way of these things still doesn’t feel right to me, even after 2 decades of grinding my life away in the system. I am privileged now, to live a peaceful and quiet life of my own design. Two years feels like an eternity, the way that 90 days felt then. Everything is different and I worry now that the wound has become part of my identity, a shimmering scar that permeates every interaction. This is a choice I am making, I know. Acceptance is still a hard pill to swallow, and my old habit of playing the victim card is deeply ingrained in my survival techniques. It’s still a struggle and I imagine I will be batting those tendencies away for some time to come. As always, I can see it clearly in how I talk to myself, how I turn over every thought like a diamond even when they are made of shit. This business, the distraction of self keeps me in melancholy and separate from the ability to find joy. Everyone is tired of it, everyone has moved on, but I’m still here holding my trauma like a prize. Recognizing the habit as a character defect, a swiss army knife staving off intimacy, I can see that I’m only cutting myself now. It’s time for actual change and retooling the shed is a slow process. So I move, invisible like the shifting of tides, because what choice do I have?
When I look back I can see there is progress, but from here it feels like drowning. What did I expect, exactly? I wanted to start with a more straightforward piece about how things are really going, but the words are not coming to the surface. Time will tell. I remain ever grateful for my health and my life, for the sound of the bugs and the frogs singing in the summer darkness, for the sweet smell of the cool night air, for everything I can see and feel, for being alive and free.