Inside out, upside down.

This weekend was filled with many ups and downs. These last two weeks, I have felt very vulnerable, these emotions raw and jagged and bubbling up to the surface when I least expect it. My beloved Kajira tells me that I have been bottling everything up since April, and the numbness has been breaking through.

For the most part, I had several amazing adventures. Angelboy and I had a lot of fun, having a Mad Max movie night and gorging on post-Apocalypse goodness while creating ATCs. I have gotten him addicted. I love that we can spend hours, side by side in a world of creations. Fingers stained with inks and acrylics and losing scisssors and glue in our hair, just laughing and inspiring each other. I love those moments.

We rounded up the last harvest from my garden, before dismantling everything and sweeping the earth under protective piles of leaves. Then we had adventures in the kitchen with my mother while she taught us how to create a feast of green-fried tomatoes, and homegrown sweet-potatoes and carrots drizzled in orange juice and cinammon, plus fall-time apple crisp!

Those are some of the good things. Some of the bad things included one really bad breakdown, just me bursting into tears while Angelboy tried to comfort me, looking boggled and confused. I came to the realization that I have spent these past few months just distracting myself from... myself. Searching for books and movies and silly facebook games, desperate to fill the hours with activities that keep me from thinking and feeling and being in my own skin. I told him how I hate that I have been a super hermit lately - in the last two months, I have only hung out with my friends once. But it has all been by my own choice.

I told him how I am not over what happened in the spring, and there was a blankness in his eyes that cut me to the core. He actually had to think back, recall the badness. And it just drove the point home - I don't think there is anything so isolating and painful as losing your baby before it can be born. And it will never hurt anyone as much as it hurts you - they can move on, it doesn't really affect their lives. Even Angelboy doesn't think about it anymore. It doesn't hurt him at all.

But these past two weeks especially, I keep remembering.

I want to scream at everyone. I want to punch walls and scream until my throat turns raw, I want to shout and break glass and snarl obscenties and destroy everything around me. I want to lash out. I want to just cry and cry and cry, until all of these salt rivers in my veins dry up. I want to hurt myself, that itch beneath the skin that always comes when things get too bad.

I am stronger than these urges, though. I haven't hurt myself in several years, and I don't plan on starting now. I just feel like a ball of bad emotions, of rage and pain and sadness. Because I feel like I am existing in a world that is comprised of emotional agony or total numbess. And nobody understands. Even my loved ones are confused, even they don't know what to say. There is just silence, and I feel pressure to keep silent, keep it all bottled up. Like it's been months, so I should have moved on....

But I can't. And none of them understand. And I have never felt as alone as I have felt these past six months.

And for once, I am tired of pretending to be positive, pretending like I am totally a-okay. Because I have been in pieces for months, and sometimes, just making it to the end of the day is a victory that no one else appreciates.


Blah. I think I am going to pick up journaling again, physically keeping a book and trying to create a visual journal. ATCs were the only thing that kept me sane and balanced this weekend, which reinforces the fact that I need to stop avoiding these emotions using books and internet games, and just deal with it head on. Preferably channeling all of this negativity into something productive, potentially beautiful.

We'll see how it goes.