nov 26

 

Rambling ahead, probably will be deleted in the morning.

 

I'd say I love being alone, but when headspace is silent it's the worst feeling in the world.
Yes, there's always writing work to do. That's great, and I love it. But I can only do that for so many days before I realize I've forgotten how to be a person. Creative work turns me into a total channel; empty and pure, capable of letting any idea move through me, but incapable of interacting with any living thing.
For most of the past, that was the norm. I never spoke to the people I wrote about, I never had a solid identity of my own. But when that began to change, suddenly, around 2003, I'll admit it looks like I became addicted at first. I didn't know how to handle it, and it was euphoric. Suddenly there were other people inside (nice ones, for once!) that I could TALK to! And at first, the periods of downtime were crushing. Now that I knew what it was like to NOT be lonely, I was suddenly aware of what loneliness actually WAS.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here. Honestly I'm guessing; those memories are distant and vague. All I can say is how I feel now, looking at them, someone else's life.

Even so I still don't know how to deal with daily life, or physical reality, or tangible people. It's overwhelming and scary for me. I need lots of space, I need lots of silence, I need the ability to run away when I feel trapped. But I also need to know that there's somewhere to run BACK to.
I've been alone for a long, long time, it feels like. It's sad. I'm not sure why I'm saying any of this. It doesn't quite make sense.
Whether I like it or not, people need people. But the only people I've ever truly known are "upstairs." And it's been getting harder to find them.
I guess the bottom line is, I'm tired and lonely and I miss people. Nights like this everything is quiet and I'm stuck literally walking in circles for hours and I don't hear anyone. Is that better? Is that worse?
I'm sick of forcing myself into trauma just to hear people shout at me. I'm so sick of this stupid ache that drives me in dangerous directions, just to feel like my existence is acknowledged. That's selfish. I shouldn't need or want that. And yet there it is.
Tonight, I am lonely, and sad, and a little afraid.
I'm trying to be 100% okay with the silence and emptiness. But that's tricky, when it feels like that once-holy quiet is now denying me of any possibility of connecting with others as a person in my own right.
I can be alone. That's easy. Just take out the "I can," and be nothing.
The days when I can't do that are the difficult ones.

 

-Jay (empty mode, sorry)