I base most of my fashion sense on what doesn’t itch.
~ Gilda Radner


I think this new life i have fashioned is starting to chafe, a little. This new way of living that involves higher functioning has brought a calm and peace to which i am not accustomed. I’m most familiar with drama and chaos, it’s happened regularly, and frequently, since i first drew breath. I’ve spent many years now, whittling it away, carving something sturdy and serviceable. Stripping away soft, rotted bark and patiently (okay, not always that patiently) working to reveal its true shape hidden in the fragrant and vital hardwood beneath.

This work has become a daily part of my life. I pick it up when i will, and carve a little as it pleases me. However, as its form becomes more clear, i’ve felt excitement stirring in my nethers. Not sexual in nature, rather of something soon to be born. I am coming forth.

Yes, Hi, it’s me and my flowery way of communicating; that’s part of it. Part of me, part of who i am as a one of a kind piece of art. I am a sculpture that fashions itself. Behold!

I’m being silly, but honestly i’m hoping to lift myself out of this mood by so doing. I’m low. I’m tired and somewhat afraid. I know these feelings, but underneath them, another has been simmering slowly – it’s an uncomfortability. I’m blaming lack of familiarity, along with a smattering of boredom.

In past times such feelings could quickly land me in overwhelm. My response to such would be to either shut down, or nope right outta there. In short, to dissociate in some form or fashion, out of proportion to what was currently happening and how i felt about it. These days i’m practising mindfulness and staying present, i.e. conscious and in control. I’m working on sliding* and switching* as seldom as possible.

Also, i’ve been working hard to cut down on chaos by managing my system, calming my thoughts, eliminating problematic friendships and associations, and pursuing age appropriate levels of maturity. It’s working well, but it feels weird, like there’s something missing in my life. I’m guessing this is caused by a couple of things. The easiest to identify is the one where this is simply not what i’m used to. It’s like if i wore sweat pants all my life and suddenly started wearing jeans. It’ll likely take some time before i feel comfortable in them.

Sometimes, when people survive an experience that might have killed them, say a car accident, they find themselves seeking more dangerous situations. It’s been studied at length and thought to be some survivor’s guilt, along with a desire to recreate that intensity of emotion. To feel that alive again. When one isn’t constantly in fight or flight mode –when the threat is finally eliminated– it can almost feel like something’s wrong. My life hasn’t been legitimately threatened for some years now, and i find it at times unsettling. Part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Being safe, being an adult about things, only having the people i want to have in my life – none of it feels natural.

Plus, when i lived with all of that ruckus (both around and inside me) before, i could practically sleepwalk my way through it. Everything requires my attention now. When i’m awake, i’m on. It’s all new and i’m exhausted. I’ve been concerned that my system might manufacture some drama just to feel “normal.” They didn’t get the chance.

Last weekend i blew a gasket.

The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
A chafing savage, down the decent street
~ Claude McKay


Until Next Time,
Peace and Love,
~H~

*Definitions can be found in my FAQs.



IMAGE: Flickr

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