msjessica's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- shriek to speak, and reach for the speech to be heard i am such a web of contradictions once someone pushes me to be honest. i need him to not be active in his main addiction, however i lack the words to say i have reached that unapologetic stage with one of mine, and i am way more active within disordered eating than i've been in maybe 8-10 years. but they are different addictions perhaps. his lasts for longer than i have been classed as an adult. and it is the one that is apparently the worst, that steals souls so bad and takes lives loudly and dramatically. there's not that many movies about alcoholism killing people but i know it's just as bad (or worse. or not as bad. maybe i don't know). - and i just don't know. i was in a little existential fucking meltdown not so long ago. and i somehow came out the other side of it - decided the meaning was to read as many books, know as much, hear as much, love as much, feel and fuck and fight as much as one could - THAT is the meaning of life. to just fucking do it. while you can. and then i don't know - is it my chemicals - or is it my thoughts - are they the same thing - is there electricity in there - i wish i knew more about how the brain worked - but all of a sudden i just fucking shot out the other end of my little crisis and was at these concerts and getting on a plane and exclaiming love and seeing my favourite people (my past) and and and just on and on and on and no food in my belly for days and then days later on just 12 black olives and 2 bits of kit kat i can run run run further than i've ran in a year and then weights and sit ups and push ups and i am so present and i am studying when i'm not working and when i'm not working or studying i am involved in deep emotional dialogues sorting out the next couple of months of my life or making life changing decisions because i'm obviously in a state to be making life changing decisions but if not now when, if not this state then what is a good state and will i ever reach it and how is that measured and who decides and and and and what is the difference between feeling love and being in love. is it being active in it? the same way an addict will always be an addict, but they will either be active or...in recovery. so is the difference between "love" and "in love" being active in it? because i... i guess that makes sense. maybe i feel comfortable with that explanation. so yes, i am actively loving him. i am all swept up in it. i also have moments where i am actively loving others - my mother, my beautiful ex boyfriend, my best friend who shares my last name, my sister who is a man. and we talk so much and he opens me up so much to this new level of interaction with people, of really being able to be present with people and to experience them (as much as i can in a moment) as a whole. as BOTH what they are presenting to me and also as a sum of all of their parts, opens me to really trying to experience people in context, to open my heart and trust that they will experience me in that way also but if they don't - i can fucking deal with that. part of their....process. ------- so he brings me to this place. and then loses shit at me about petty stuff. and i find that i'm lying because i'm scared - little old me who always professes i am queen of honesty (fitting as i have previously called him the kind of polyamory and maybe we are both struggling with the titles we claimed). and it is not petty. i should not discount his feelings/thoughts that way. ------ i struggled because i felt like i was standing in front of him, naked and growing hair i'd never allowed myself to grow, dripping blood and smelling like fresh meat when i'd never let anyone see me like that open, so fucking wide open to him and instead of being joyful at that he takes some fucking tweezers, some surgical instrument and lifts up my hanging parts and says "well, what about this?" "why, when you're open, are there these shadows - what's under here?" and demands to know what's in those fucking parts of me that i didn't even know existed, refused to look at until he fucking shone a torch on them. ------ it makes me think of when people ask (the stupidest fucking question in the world) "did that hurt?" about my septum. and my response always is "Not really, what really fucking hurt is this.." and lift up my top lip and show them my smiley piercing, Because it did fucking hurt. like a mother fucker. like nothing i've ever felt before. and the very reason it hurt is because - do it to yourself right now (yes, this is my pub spiel) - reach up above your top front teeth and pinch that tiny bit of skin as hard as you can - have you ever even FELT that part of your body? did you even really recognise that it was there, until just now? it has NEVER had to deal with touch, or with any kind of sensation ever. At most, you've bitten into something and it's been slightly rubbed. But it's never really felt anything, it is one of the most (I'm sure there's a few of them but hey - we never feel them so we maybe don't even know they're there) unexplored and therefore sensitive parts of your body. so - (i am so long winded) - that is kind of how he makes me feel all the time. like he is finding these parts of me that have never had to deal with sensation, and he's making me fucking bring them out into the sun and discuss them. and it is beautiful but it is hard. and coupled with expectation, and emotion and all the workings of the way another person can try so hard to connect with someone else (there will always be big gaping holes where we can never overlap) it is making for some fucking intense conversations. skype conversations. which perhaps make it worse - being able to look at eachother, being able to see eachothers frustration in our eyes and movements but not being able to physically feel the spit on each others faces from our words, not smell the sweat that comes with the stress, not reconcile in a way that is all violence and surrender and force and give and fluidity with one another. ---------- i'm fucked. we're fucked. we are fucked in this love for one another. 8:23 p.m. - 2013-03-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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