Finding space to be quiet when there is chaos all around me is something I struggle with every single day. It's why I don't go anywhere anymore. I'm talking about both literal quiet and cerebral quiet. I don't sleep much. My brain is always churning away with everything and nothing all at once all the time. Endlessly. I am exhausted 99.9% of the time. Mentally, emotionally, and most certainly physically. I live on a busy street with constant traffic and people milling about. It is noisy and overwhelming and I hate it. I go on twitter to participate in the world as best I can, and that is just as noisy and overwhelming as the busy street I live on. I spend a significant amount of my life wishing I could be outside somewhere peaceful, with trees and grass and lots and lots of birds chirping. It's all I want, honestly.
I have not written here since the orange fucker took over and has rapidly diminished so much. So, so much. I had planned to buy a house early this year, but now I feel compelled to wait because WHO THE FUCK KNOWS about anything anymore. I don't want to be trapped living here, and it's just a matter of time before the housing market collapses again, and I certainly don't want to be a victim of that. So, I started thinking about moving out of state again. To somewhere new and fresh. Ripping off the bandaid of my comfortable little bubble and chucking it all at once. To get rid of nearly everything I own and just leave, like that, whenever I damn well please. There is nothing stopping me. What a tempting, invigorating adventure that could be...
But then I come back to reality, of my anxiety, and my desperate need to have quiet and calm and space and I succumb to being stuck where I am for a while longer, at least. Now is the time to cling to any trace of security we have left, not the time to let go of it. I have nice things and a comfortable (albeit noisy) place to live and a good job and food and health insurance and a wonderful child who lives just across town. I am grateful for all of this.
Of course there is also you... sigh... my fucking YOU, who drives me so crazy I don't even have words to describe how much. We are a couple of crossed wires, sparking and firing up and dangerous and scary, but connected with this unending current that is impossible to shut off. I think I know in my heart, well, I think I have always known in my heart, that you are incapable of being what we both want to be. I understand it but I hate how much you have dragged me along on this rollercoaster ride of endless disappointment. The thing of it is, I don't think you really know that you have broken my heart about a million times now. Every hesitation of yours is an arrow through my chest with a note attached that says "you aren't good enough." I'm starting to look and feel like swiss cheese, and pretty soon the few remaining parts without holes in them aren't going to be enough to keep me together anymore. I can't keep saying the same things. I can't keep waiting for something that may never come... We are everything and nothing, you see. Tout et rien.
So I keep buying little things to keep me occupied and in some sort of delusion about what I could be doing instead of this. Clothes to wear places I never go. Dishes to serve meals to visitors I never have. Make-up, and yes, even hair dye that sits in a cupboard tempting me to dress up again, but for whom??? Part of me wants to return it all to whence it came, and to just embrace being a reclusive girl, a forgotten girl, a plain and boring and unadorned girl, alone at home battling against everything and nothing all at once.
