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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Breaking radio silence
I have given myself twenty-two minutes to write an entry today. I started out wanting to update: I've gotten married, I've started school, I've had some artwork placed in a gallery. But when big, big things happen in my life, I always just want to make myself really small and quiet so as to avoid feeling them or drawing even more attention to myself. I think it's related to my mother's noncommital, "good," response to my most wonderful (or what I thought were wonderful) achievements. Maybe it is the culmination of my father's mission to wipe out my ability to feel (or express at least) emotion. So when things--exciting things, big things, wonderful things--happen to me, I hunker down, make myself small, avoid, repress. And August has been a big month. It always is. My birthday at the beginning of the month, it's the month of the anniversary of the first time M and I began going together and now it's the anniversary of our wedding day, it's the month I found out (at 17) that I was pregnant and the month I had an abortion, it's the month in which school begins, its the month that marks the transition from summer to fall. Big things always happen in August, hence the radio silence. I don't think about what is going on mostly. As it's happening, I mean. I try to block it out and pretend that it's not happening. I pretend that I'm not there. I disconnect. I avoid. But you know that about me already. I want to write about happiness and fulfillment, but there has been little of that lately--or at least I've blocked out what there has been. I've laughed at things and joked, but I can't seem to ever shake that underlying sadness. The comical side is not so much a side as a veneer or a shell of humor that is supposed to protect me. I don't know how well it works compared to other things, but I use it still. Today I have done not too much. I did the dishes. I did some studying. I made and ate breakfast and lunch. I watched a PBS documentary about a comedy camp in LA. I checked my email. I watched an Alfred Hitchcock film. I feel as though I've missed something this weekend. I feel as though I haven't done restful things, replenishing things. I feel-- I feel. I've been feeling a bit sad. I've been feeling a bit lonely and empty. I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed. And if you were to take all the "bit"s out of those last sentences, you'd have how I've been feeling. August is a month, too of downward spiralling. August is the month that depression comes back from it's summer home. August is the time that I have to start looking at what I've not accomplished. I don't need all twenty-two of those minutes. I think this is enough.
More lies:
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