“Sing your sad soul to sleep…..”
I’m still trying to figure this out. I’m trying not to feel ashamed that I’m still trying to figure this out. I had a dream and now I need a new one, and I don’t want a new one I wanted that one.
I’ve been determined for years to get to have the experience of having a baby in my authentic sexuality. And most people can’t understand when I’m on the brink of “freedom” why I’d want anything else to take care of. I don’t think I see it like that at all, and maybe that’s the concerning part.
So I’m processing about what is this baby thing about, when I could do this or that thing. It boils down to I want intimacy and I want to experience that intimacy with a woman I’m on the same plane with. Is that so much to ask.
I’m in so much pain. Last night was one of the lowest I’ve had in a long time. I had a long day, therapy, and then tattoo therapy. I was exhausted and hurty and I just wanted to talk about my day with the same person, one person that I feel I want to tell everything too. Is that so much to ask? Ugh I sound so whiny. No we aren’t doing that.
I’m a whole adult now (as they say) and I will not compromise on what I want and deserve or just automatically reach out to any source that isn’t present in a healthy way for me.
I love who I am and where I am, and I love what I do, how I spend my time most of the time, but I greatly dislike my life right now. I am really fighting against labeling this co dependence, I’m so tired of labels.
I am a love person: why can’t that just be who I am. Because Christina if that were true you wouldn’t attract abuse or chaotic energies into your life and that end up badly. I can still be about love though. So is this about patience. Nail on the head as usual :p. And or about faith. It feels like it doesn’t exist, if I don’t rush and make it happen. The food and the love never came. Except I have all of that in excess, but I do not have a partner.
It’s been almost two years now I’ve cruised through the agony more than once of wishing I was doing Gottman cards and relationship exercises with another person, and all of it. Watching clients discuss their partnerships, even the hard parts with envy. That ship has sailed and I’m still treading water.
I’m so fucking stubborn about certain things. I watched King Richard last night. Such a good movie. Most people don’t like the movies I do. They think they are boring or sad or weird. I’m not in it for the entertainment value. I’m there to experience a real human experienced as recaptured in artistic fashion.
Richard was stubborn and it was insinuated not the best man in certain aspects. Perhaps it’s from a lens of scarcity of not having a father I would have killed to have one dote that attention and affection on me. He wanted something better for his daughters and for his family. And he did it in a way that didn’t compromise their beliefs as a family.
I would have just swallowed the first contract whole without a second thought, just to have the experience. Strong is so attractive to me. And then I thought of who I think of when I think of strong and I realized my wires are crossed there. I had to undo the affection and warmth and reality check myself real quick. I do that a lot these days, and return my focus on me, on my strong.
It’s me who is strong like that, but it never appears that way to anybody else. If a tree falls in the forest does it make a sound? Unseen, unheard, lonely, and sad.
I fucking hate the holidays. I do. I love them when there is healthy love present in my life or at least the illusion of it, but right now I hate them.
Nothing is making me feel better. Granted this is just an emotional wave and it will pass. It’s the lowest of the low.
Last night the crackling fire comforted me: it reminded me of a good aspect of my roots, being from Oregon.
I miss something I haven’t even had yet, a phantom.
Yesterday in therapy I wanted to be excited about my progress, but instead my therapist holds my feet to the fire, and doesn’t let me float off into fantasy. All she did was ask me what I want now that my dream has changed and the tears were hot and immediate and body racking sobbing. I’m so fucking tired of crying. I’m so tired.
My found father will be here soon with a hug and I’ll hold on tight for each moment like that where I can breathe right now. Thursday night dinner… I have an energy healing soon. Moments with a new soul connection in the form of a neighbor.
It all still feels like crumbs and I feel so ungrateful saying that. It’s the pain talking so please don’t shame me, because I’m trying to learn how not to shame myself. For not even knowing what I want anymore.
Taking down a dream is hard, doing it over and over is unbearable, feeling that’s you’re fault and you’re irresponsible and a whole bunch of other things is self-harm.
I curl up in a ball on my couch and beg for a few minutes of distraction that feels like a healthy choice for me and wait for the morning sun to warm this barely beating heart.
For me it was always about love. There are so many kinds of love. I’m experiencing so many including the new baby shoots of loving myself. But right now there’s such an extreme lack of talk, touch, and all those little routines between two people.
I miss intimacy of all varieties. It’s hard to jot slip into being hard on myself here. All of the ways I am responsible I don’t have that in my life. It is always a double edge sword.
I am tired. Three words could have been this entire post….