hide from the world. can’t think. cant move. pain shatters my mind like shards of glass ripping though my skull. i press down on the pillow. i try to create pressure. i block out the light which is really gray. muscles tremble-in my hands, in my calves, in my cheeks. my stomach knots in pain, i double over, squeal in my morning yelp. the dog looks up.
12:33 pm
i think of all the things. the list of what i wanted to accomplish. the goals i wanted to achieve. i look at my animals surrounding me as protectors and i think how grateful i am that i made it through the last hour. i tell myself it will be ok. i tell myself that i will allow myself to rest so that i may be better and stronger for myself and others soon.
time? what time is it? i don’t know, because i live in my own little bubble world. the confines and trappings of my mind are growing more complicated with each breath. i must rest my mind. i must rest my soul. i must forgive myself for being ill. this is my illness. forgive, forgive.
2:21pm (dining room)
sit before your work and center yourself. get quiet within. let the poison that pollutes your soul out. pour out the suffering onto the canvas and let your spirit go free.
I am trying to be good. I am trying to get out and do the things that people assume that I can do. I am doing my best to head out to the store. I am doing my best to fulfill the assumed responsibility and obligation to cook and clean. I feel like I am going to pass out and die. Most of the time I wish I would.
I hate this project, and I hate where it’s goint. It is messy and cluttered and frustrating. But I am trying to accept that it is part of the process. I am trying to accept that moving through this part of the work is what makes it good in the long run. Sticking with what feels ugly and complicated. Working it out.