The Art of Broken Pieces

“When you write, you should put your skin on the table.”
~Louis-Ferdinand Celine

I’m afraid to write too often or too regularly, because i’m afraid of what might come out. I’ve made a firm commitment though, to share how i deal with how my brain works, and to deny it -even to hedge a little- would lead me to stumble on my path. I’m as committed to stumbling as little as possible, as i am to telling you about it when i do, therefore i must write. As much and as able as i am to do so, i will.

Even if all i end up being is an excellent example of what not to do. Heh.

So yes, i am feeling somewhat fatalistic today. Which is odd and also amusing when one considers that i don’t believe in fate at all. Not a whit. Maybe it’s not so much fate, as it is this feeling that comes over me when i’m at the keyboard – the feeling that i MUST do this. The caged bird singing and all that, how poetic, tralala. I’ve expressed myself artistically in other ways, but i was too dysfunctional to pursue any of the opportunities that came my way as an adult. As a child, my seethingly jealous and envious mother did all my sabotage for me. I don’t know if i’ll ever be any good at writing, but i know i have one thing going for me, and that is that i’ve found my voice. I may never bash out any fiction (the mere thought makes me perspire), but when i write anything about my own thoughts and my personal life, i am exactly me, myself, and i. Which is darkly amusing, because i am many parts making up a whole person.

What do i want to write about today? I guess i want to write about what i’m going through right now, which is pretty much what i always write about. About a month ago, something happened that is the worst thing to happen to me since i’ve gotten my mental health on track. I’ve got one full year of no full blown mania or depression, no police or judge involvement, no voluntary or involuntary hospital admissions, and manageable levels of dissociation. I haven’t had two months of that, let alone thirteen and a half, since i went off the rails in 2006.

So i am deep in the shit. I’m going to do everything in my power to maintain my streak, but the pressure’s high, and i know that i might fail. I know some people bristle at the use of such words, but the word “fail” doesn’t bother me at all. I understand that sometimes it can help to shift someone’s perspective in a positive way to use different words. For instance, instead of the word “fail” i could call it a “stumble” or a “learning opportunity”. If that’s what works for you, then you keep doing it. You’ve got to tailor your plan of personal growth to suit your personality. I find a tremendous amount of freedom in calling a thing what it is and just dealing with it head-on. For some people, calling something they did a failure could be detrimental to their health, and i get it. Try not to hurt yourself anymore than you’ve already been hurt. Because of my upbringing, i loathe euphemisms and pop psychology is tough for me to take. Calling a thing what i think it is, helps me stay real and honestly connected to myself and my surroundings. What i mean to say is, just because it would be a euphemism for me, doesn’t make it one for you. Yours may be more accurately called a “learning opportunity”. Geez, i hope i made some sense, there. Heh.

You call what you call it, and i’ll do the same, and neither one of us is necessarily wrong. Although you might be. (I need a smartass font.)

Another word that i use that can make some people uncomfortable -even my therapist doesn’t care for it- is “broken”. Maybe some day i won’t use that word to describe myself anymore, but i can’t see it happening. I was profoundly abused as a child, and i’m broken in ways that will never be fixed. I’ve spent the majority of my adult life trying to emulate what normal looks like to me, and despite my best efforts, i’ve never quite gotten the hang of it. Once the most important thing became to know myself and be myself, the first thing that was abundantly clear to me is that my childhood broke me, and i will never know what i could have been or done with my life had i not been so broken.

As with most things though, i do find that there is a line to walk with this knowledge. I’ve seen what happens when the freedom that comes from acknowledgment becomes an excuse not to bother trying to fix the things that can be fixed. I have dived deeply into the waters of self-pity and while i believe i needed/deserved to and i’m glad i did, there came a time when i knew it was time to get out, shower, and dry off. I will never be returned to my original state, but i can stitch the wounds and set the bones.

I see myself as a piece of Kintsugi, which is the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery using lacquer that has been mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. Instead of hiding my cracks, i decorate them with something beautiful and those mended bits become the most precious parts of me. It’s not to say that i take a perverse kind of pleasure in being this broken, it is more that what others might see as useless and throw away, i put back together. And not just in a utilitarian manner – i did so artfully, and now it is even more beautiful and precious than it was in its unbroken form.

Freedom.

I have been broken and i have failed and i am free.

I am currently repairing the chip in my bowl with gold.

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
~Leonard Cohen

Love and Peace to All,

~H~
P.S. Did you notice how i started out writing about stumbling and then got on to failure? I didn’t until i was proofreading. Welcome to how my brain works – she is an interesting bit of stuff. Heh.

Random Processing (No Really)

I haven’t known what to say for the last few days because i’m angry. And while i don’t see anger as either negative or positive in and of itself, i see a world that is so full of the consequences of people not knowing how to appropriately express and act on their own, that i don’t want to contribute to the already fractious fray.

Ah, but i’ve tried to write and nothing comes but stilted, hitching bullshit that always works its way ’round to how angry i am. I don’t want this blog to be filled with fluffy bunnies and cupcakes (okay, i kinda do), nor do i want anyone to leave this page carrying a heavier burden than that which they’d brought (although that may still happen). I want this place to just be me. I could have been doing good things; helping others, easing pain, building people up, contributing positively in small ways and maybe even bigger ones… But i wasn’t able to, and that’s just the way it is. Now though…

Now i see an opportunity to do something good. It’s fairly simple and it starts out benefiting me and it may be of help to others, which is what i’ve always wanted to do with my life. All i have to do is take all the various words and voices floating around in my head, and put them up on this screen. I do this to show you and me both, how we are not the same and yet we are. So that you might see that the journey towards knowing oneself and living the life one wishes to live is possible. And particularly for those whose brains have been altered by nature or nurture (or both) like mine, to see that there is a place in the world for us. With some tinkering with boundaries and parameters and definitions, this may be possible for us, as well.

Hey, i already feel calmer and less pissed off. Huh. It didn’t work the last couple of days i tried, but it seems to be today. I’m not sure what’ll happen if i get into the things that i’ve been finding so upsetting, but let’s see.

You know what? No.

I’m listening to some calming music (the band’s called OM, if you’re curious), the sun is up and not yet hot upon the ground, my front door’s open and i write where i can see the big tree in front of our Little Crooked House and the birds are chirping happily after a good breakfast. My 2 little dogs are laying on my me and my big one is at my feet. The husband and my last teenager are sleeping in and i’m gonna get started on some sort of epic morning meal.

Maybe i’ll be back later, needing to vent, maybe not, but it’s gone for now and it doesn’t feel right to force it up and out. I dunno for sure, but i’m just gonna go with what i’ve got for now.

You have whatever sort of day you want to, and i’ll do the same.

 

Love and Peace To All,

~H~