Friday, I had a somewhat frightening dream.
I was in a fictional building, amongst, I don’t know, soldiers. Maybe the setting was affected by the latest wrestling-themed episode of Supernatural.
Anyway, there was this boundary moving in, consuming everything in its path— like a wall closing in, but not a physical wall. We could get out of its way, but we had to move fast, and climb (I grabbed on to someone’s legs; the chains attached to the ceiling were out of reach). A leader of some sort opened a passageway by hand. And then I woke up.
There was more leading up, but the memory of what happened before that interactive scene is too vague to recall… lost in its seemingly mechanical routine. But the latter part sort of reflects the feeling that my world is closing in on me, consuming me, silently.
There are so many ways at which my world is going dark, and it is kind of scary if you think about it. In spite of my actions, the lights go out around me. And literally— the two light fixtures in the kitchen no longer work; both of them. We’re using a plug-in lamp, currently burning an LED 60w replacement bulb because the halogen bulbs don’t last very long.
Some of what I get in life could go to the whole argument of expectations versus integrity as Togetherness the TV series conveys, that if you’re not all there and ready, you shouldn’t expect much. But this darkness I face is just absurd.
Nevertheless, I have to work on my health, mental and physical.
In the effort to restore some of my physical health, immune system, etc. as it’s showing in the condition of my skin, I began to try to sleep earlier. In return I seem to only have gotten a stiff neck, and… people found me less available because I went back to sleep, and ended up sleeping through noon. But it’s more than that. Things have been seriously going downhill for some time. I remember. It’s more than one day, trying to find a reason why people don’t bother or don’t know what to do with me, including doctors (holy crap). This darkness I face… It’s so absurd, it’s kind of absurd that some people find my journey inspiring. I’m still not going places. I’m still frozen.
I’m no optimist. …Maybe a spiritual realist… with a disorder or two… I have some very strong willpower, where I fight hard when I know what I’m doing (and not destroying myself in the process). …But it is willpower that often goes nowhere. …It’s an inevitably painful life; even when it’s not emotional pain, it’s pain. A pain that reflects my lack of self-love, a denial that is fueled by the belief that I’ll face a loveless future being on my own. My experience tells me this, used to isolation with nowhere to go, without leadership… the overwhelming feeling that the difficult journey ahead is pointless… Just one light in absurd darkness.
I have enough faith to move forward, but the practical side of it keeps me down. “There’s nothing here,” I always say, which is easy to say, because it’s rural Maine. (No offense.) “I can’t teach myself what I don’t know,” which is logically true. These are excuses, yes. But I can’t see past it. You have no idea. The practical reality forces you to start somewhere, but the fear of being stranded while inadequate and unloved. That’s a horrible trifecta. That should be tackled.
I’ve let go again. I recently hit a point where my software projects don’t need improvement beyond things outside of my skill set… not moving forward with network coding… just a nobody asking for help on a hobby project… so I haven’t bothered writing the code, code I would have to commit research on, cost v. missing demand.
It all gathers dust. Maybe the ‘erasure wall’ symbolizes erasure closing in, struggling to keep myself from becoming dust too. …As if my activity could be called a struggle.
…It sounds like borderline personality that I have trouble accepting myself alone. It sounds like narcissism that I have trouble taking responsibility. But labels aren’t going to define it. Like love, it is what it is. Whenever I face being entirely on my own, it’s terrifying… maybe one of those things that trigger my silent spells, where I stay in bed for too long or even just stand and accidentally burn myself…
A few things changed in February, though. My therapist gave me a link to a blog by Matt Licata called A Healing Space. It confirmed some of the things I’ve been thinking and began filling in some gaps of what I’ve been missing on the general subjects of love (including self-love). That isn’t to say Matt is a god or guru, or anything, lol… the language speaks for itself.
The lines are better drawn after a minor meltdown following St. Valentine’s Day that, in part, led to a needed break from twitter. The other part, because I had been trying too hard… wasting too much time trying to write witty words amid a trend of silence. “Don’t just put your words out into the ether.” Guilty.
I began reading twitter horoscopes… Surprisingly, what I could read out of them, the accumulated information lined up with what I knew, personalities (holy crap), the potentially romantic connection I have with the friend I thought I was falling in love with (holy crap), and what was going on in general, that this stage in late February is a resting period…
At least I’m getting answers, however few and rough. At least I’m getting something to prepare for, in caring for others, which gave me some calm.
In conversation, I spoke the reality that true hope requires perspective, as opposed to the temporary false hope (also associated with passion)… and it comes back to me… that it’s all from within. Perspective, love, connection. The love within, dancing with the love of the cosmos, whatever form it takes…
The now glared at me: the love is there… now #$!%ing go to sleep.