A Life Less Written ... No Preaching1/24/2018 Week of January 10, 2018
Wayneji mentioned recently that there is a tendency in my person to Preach. *** The Darkness has hit deep and hard this time round. Woke up violently angry two nights in a row and was surprised to see the seriousness of Suicidal thought again. Anne Sexton says the thoughts are addicting, maybe they are. They provide comfort. They provide an end to what seems endless. No one that has not had depression or faced the other side of mania could possibly understand how close one comes to walking out on yourself. The other day there was a cut that came so deep I couldn’t even stop the tears in public. Sobbed in public. The rages that have been appearing lately, at other times in this life, would have ended in self-violence. Something has shifted. There was no desire to punch the face. Usually the face would get severely punched, bruised when times such as these would come, but this time the urge to hit one’s self was not there. Was noticeably not there. Surprisingly not there. Something has shifted. I won’t mention what brought on these feelings of self-hate because they will be used to create more if shared. One is alone in this insane world now. There is no one that won’t use information to create more pain. *** Speaking of pain, on a walk the other day there was an internal conversation with Tony going on … not really with him it was more like writing a letter in the mind. I hadn’t realized that there was still quite a bit of anger in my person around my teen-age relationship with him. Things I had never said but probably still felt all these years because it was coming through as if nothing had changed. I don’t know if I will write him but if I do, I will put it in here because the words are not flowing right now. *** Recently there has been such horrible doubts arising about writing. Whether one is actually good at it or not. It’s shown up in the past but not with such serious force as it has recently. Basically it all boils down to: “Who cares?” Who is it that cares whether the writing is good or not. Just write. It’s what you do. It’s the only thing that still calls out to you. It’s the only thing that still makes life worth living. It’s the only thing that doesn’t leave you. It could just stem from the Darkness. There is a small reprieve right now. One is well rested and there is a cloud of it lingering above but it is far enough above to allow the barometric pressure to read: “Watch out for low lying clouds coming in from the East.” So you know that it is just a short reprieve, but any is a Miracle at this point in time and is well received. *** The sense of losing it all … just completely falling apart have surfaced. Some moments have been so intense that the thought of hospitalization has appeared … it’s been a long time since those thoughts have floated through and add to the want to end it all. *** There is a growing appreciation for Anne (Sexton) showing up at this time in life … I suppose it is just to know that someone out there has gone through similar things. Often when there is a sense of “missing others,” she will remind me of how having others around often just exacerbates the intensity of the crash, the fall, the insanity. No matter how good you get, how great you feel, the other side will always appear and often with the same intensity of how good or great it had been, will be how hard and deep one will crash and burn. She is a reminder that romance fades, the good life turns bad, love doesn’t conquer all and that insanity can and often does; end a life. *** “A work of Art is wiser than its maker.” (Page 222, Anne Sexton) *** I no longer recall if it was a Vision or a Dream. A few daze ago there appeared a hole in the left hand and pain began to grow … a deep bone pain. Then it faded as quickly as it came and blood was coming out of this hole in the center of the hand, but then the blood disappeared and only the hole was there. Just standing there … ever so still with the palms of the hands facing forward, away from the body. Just the left hand. There was a question … internal or external is not clear … it was just asked: “Will it always hurt like this?” *** Loving humans is the most pain-filled Life endeavors. *** It is so very easy to overlook Miracles. Such as recently writing about Paranoia and a low lying fog and since that writing anytime there has been paranoia … I’ve walked out the literal door and a low lying fog is there! Also the Wind has been playing many Mysterious tricks but I hadn’t been seeing it until this very moment as a way, as a reminder to ask oneself: “Who?” Who is experiencing this? The Wind has become more of a reminder of “Him” than of “Who” and maybe that has been the great Mistake. Maybe “He” should come as the reminder of “Who?” Just a flip, just a slight shift of view changes everything. The weather has been playing all kinds of tricks lately; all kinds of trickery on the mind. *** "Some keep the Sabbath going to Church – / I keep it, staying at Home”. -Emily Dickenson https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Dickinson *** It is still always so strange and mysterious how these people (Dickenson) fall in one’s lap … with such interesting and impeccable timing. I will not be surprised to find out she suicided but am not hoping that she did. She was a recluse and suffered depression. Am actually quite surprised to read that she did not take her own life. She actually died of Bright’s Disease which they say they treat with abstinence of alcohol, cheese and red meat. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bright%27s_disease
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