synchronicity

I got a text from the young redhead guy I saw a few times back when I began sleeping with men again.  It was utterly shocking, as if he was writing to a completely different person.

He flirted and I flirted back.  I wondered at myself about this response.  The internal and also the decision, the motions of my fingers, my sense of obliging him, how it all fit together.  Also how odd the timing is, how perfect in a sense.

That is, once upon a time this would have been exactly perfect timing, in terms of my mood or rage or pain.  I haven't heard from him in years and I haven't had a severe bout like this in years.  These things all feel connected.

I'm working hard to turn this corner or to hold on until this corner turns me. Back. Toward my self.

Snuffed out candle, wick still smoldering under the stream of smoke, and there is another me striking match after match.  Holding vigil.  Well.  Trying to.

The scene is unchanging.  Seconds pass.  Minutes.  Sit with them. Feel that? The urgency growing.  It's desperation.  The dark crowds in and I want the light. To push it back.  Before I lose my fear of the dark.

This repetitive trying, caught somewhere between earnest and obsessed.  Maybe the difference is just a matter of scale.  Even so sometimes that's all you've got.

That and the dwindling matches.

gravity

I have taken a tumble and I don't seem to find my way out.  It's been a few weeks, now.  I'd hoped it was maybe the weather which perks up a bit but turns back to fallish, winterish, and worse.  It's nearly June, now, and gray wet and in the fifties most always.

Those bony fingers have come for me.  Up my shirt and down my spine.  I cannot always tell anxiety from depression, so quick to give way inside my head.  I had two panics with shaking and everything, both followed by the abyss.  Can they arise together?  Some kind of yin and yang?

I think I can hold out for this to break.  Though I can feel a list coalescing in the back of my mind.  A somber laundry list.  But my energy is sparse, mostly.  When the rage comes I am most at risk, but I've been able to navigate the strong gravity away, and away when that happens.

I'm making some changes to my diet and exercise routine.  Carbs can help mood.  Moving my workout indoors since the weather is so shitty.  I'm hoping writing will help.  I've scarcely written in a year.  Make plans with some friends.  I didn't talk to or write anyone for days.  Like, literally anyone.  I need to go through the motions.  Maybe these and a break in the drear will begin to move things back.  Otherwise I'm down to the only thing left- medication.