Grand Schemes and Internal Dialouges.

Depressed.

That happens when I think of the grand scheme of my life. I keep telling myself that I need to just focus on me and love will find me, but I know that is a lie. It's like I am leading a life right now to cope with my past but the life I want to have is not a direct descent of the life I am currently leading. I keep trying to solve my internal loneliness with friends but these friends walk a seperate road that leads to a place I don't want to be. The road I am currently walking, trying to figure out how to be stable but on a different road - one I can see clearly in my dreams and my minds eye, but have yet to come across.

And why does my grand scheme involve love? My center is selfless. I am nothing if not with someone - at least that is how I feel. How am I to know what is my essence and what is the essence of BPD?

It's been awhile since my stomach has been in knots like this. Where I cringe and cough, feeling faint and dizzy, so ready and yet unable to vomit. I can feel the acid inside my stomach churn trying to disolve the heavy rocks that are making me so uneasy. In the mirror, I have lost most of the color of my face and I feel for once how I look. There is always one thing that helps: a bath.

Not an ordinary bath though. Sometimes when I am in a lot of pain I climb into the shower fully dressed - odd, but honest. There is something comforting about not stripping down for relief.

For once, I am eager to strip off the confinements of my everyday living. All my jewels, cloth and materials tossed aside as I try not to double over in pain. The water is hot, much too hot for my liking, but perfect for centering myself. The tub is not nearly half full when I pull the lever up, redirecting the hot hiss of water to the shower-head above. The drizzle is much like the consistency of a warm rain. It sounds and feels like rain and rain is calming.

My body melts into the water, and the water becomes an extension of myself. I can feel the droplets shatter the surface of the water. My body is no longer heavy and weighed down by gravity but instead I am light and weightless. The heat is seeping through me, numbing the internal turmoil that brewed. I press my palms over my ears, gazing upward to the ceiling. The steam is gathering into a white ominous cloud overhead, and it takes more effort to draw in the heavy moist air.

With my hands over my ears, I can only hear my heart beating so I slid my ears beneath the water. I am now centered with my heart beat and my breathing. I can feel myself finding my core, finding solace. I slow my breathes, and I can hear my heart slow. And just as the tub is finally filled, I am done. My anxiety and stomach pains are gone and I am not nessicarily at peace, but thoughtful and content.

As I laid there in the bath I realized that I have a lot of internal dialouge. Things I want to discuss but not just to anyone. A lot of my friends are great, but a lot of them have a way with words. Either they twist them around, lie, gossip or just don't want to hear it. So I don't share. But I wish I had someone I could talk to about anything and everything. And that makes me think of a companion.

Someone I wouldn't have to watch my words around, someone who could keep my secrets and know when I was upset. Someone who cared. Sometimes it feels like no one really cares cause no one asks or tries to understand me. I know each of my friends nearly to a T, and they can confide anything in me and when they seem down I make it a point that I will be there and they can talk to me. Hell, some I even force it out.

But no one knows me well enough to know when something is really bothering me, and if they see a bit of it they usually leave me be instead of trying to help. And then there are the rare moments when they do try to help and I am ashamed and decline their help and they drop it. I'm not one to celebrate myself with a pity party, so of course if you want to throw me one, it's gonna have to be forced on me. Sometimes I want that, need it even. Someone to force me to think about me for once.

But the person I need in my life is walking down a different road, one I have yet to walk myself. In order to find this road I need to burn my deck of coping cards. I don't feel comfortable discussing the faces of these cards, but they are self-destructing kings and queens. A whole society of royals that destroy lives.

Confrontation: Even the Good Kind.

It makes me sick to my stomach. I am continually bombarbed with a long script unrolling inside my mind, the unchecked list of things I should have done in bold-screaming-tones. My pride in my job well done shrinks, shrivels up like a grape in the sun leaving behind a bitter-sweet raisan of what could have been. Should have done that, should have done better, they deserve better, can't believe that happened, I am irresponsible, they will be angry, they will hate me. Shhhhh.

I wish I could rewrite my insides. Sometimes I feel like some of the codes inside me were written backwards. I feel like I am a human trajectary, my body being stretched into a painfully anxious position: every ligament, muscle and bone stressed with tension and stored energy. Any moment I could be a ball of momentum, but instead of a smooth, quick transition I am forced to hold the stress inside myself and wait for the confrontation. I hate waiting. I hate listening to the screaming inside my mind that makes me doubt everything. Sometimes I thinks it makes me less of a person. Unconfident. Untrusting. Faltering.

My counselor advised me to love "all" of me and to stop trying carving out the "bad". How can I love something that makes me so vulnerable? I don't know what else to say - how to answer my question. Is there an answer to every question? or is there an equal and infinate mind-searching delegation?

Innocence.

An interesting concept. . . was watching a movie and a woman randomly starts stripping - she says she is so happy and when she was a child she would go off by herself, strip down to nothing, and dance around to show her love and express her joy - she dances around without a care and I want to suddenly join her. At first I don't think I could be naked without being self-concious, and then I realize, she probably loves her body - maybe by being comfortable in my own skin, I can start to love it as well. So. I've added to my bucket list: learn to love life and my body and to celebrate in solitude by dancing around naked. XD

Innocent Joy.

Makes me want to climb back into bed and force over myself a world of happiness. A world where I am a mother. A world where I am in control and I can be weak and in distress. A world where I don't have to wear a concrete mask molded into a cheery smile. A world where I can be innocent and joyful.

I think I could be a single parent. If I could pull myself together, I would be willing to start a family by myself. I can see myself as a virgin mother with an adopted child and/or foster children. I can see it and I love the way it looks. I wish there was a husband in there, but in all honesty, at this point in my life - I can't realisticly see myself in love. Sad. Pathetic. Honest.

Serene Scenic Drive

Last night was . . . vivid, hysterical, loud, and obnoxiously fun but this morning I was laying in Jesse's bed content to not be able to draw out where the seams of his body and my body met. It's funny how things change. Best Friends to Silence - Internal Turmoil and then a quiet transition back as Friends. The only ones who are surprised at the development are myself and Jesse. We both had our minds set, but the God Divine, apparently had a different path for us, as we both couldn't keep from dreaming of each other! *Laughs* Anyways, this morning was great. We both woke earlier than early (around 5:50 am) and then decided to get some Jamba Juice and take a drive, an hour long drive with no destination and no limitation. It was a beautiful morning, not hot like usual as it rained a bit and I found a sweetness to the time that passed as it was not crowded with busy chatter. Instead we held hands and listened to loud soul-bearing music and that was enough for both of us.

An Empty Nest.

When I woke this morning, there was a consuming silence and the remnants of laughter, card games and dinner for three still out on the bar but I was alone. This house is very much the same. The night when I came here to be informed of my duties as a "house-sitter", this house was not quiet. No, instead it sung with life - loud and proud this house was of its occupants. Young, Durable, Naive children laughing, gossiping, singing and dancing around each other - a family in the making. . . but now this is just an empty nest. It has all the function and possibility in the world, but without those children and that man and that woman - this place is a sweltering hole of hell. And let me tell you, hell is beautiful - there is so many things I can see myself doing here and yet I can have none of it, because I am alone.

Waking Up.

It's like I've been sleeping - dreaming - and I've finally broke free of my unconcious wishes to find that nothing is here. . . the golds and riches I thought that I held firmly in my dreams are nigh, the simplicity and joy of life like light is found not within sight. In the darkness I sit up, and my mind is in a fog. I can't help but look around and cringe, and then the anger rips through me. Not the anger you can surpress or deny, but the kind that rips you open seam to seam, leaving you shaking and foaming at the mouth. In the middle of the night, I find myself, and I hate who I've become. For so long I've wrapped my heart inside my logic, and it seems now my heart is lost in bandages of fantasy: unconcious, unreal, ideals of who I should be at this point in my life. I've posioned myself, I've over-ruled my emotions for so long that all that is left is the anger that comes from knowing I'm not who I should have been, who I should be at this very moment. And there is no compassion. I am ruled by my mind, by these sick unrealistic dreams I've been dreaming and living. I will never add up.