Hello, Darkness, my old friend.

I realized what it is that I’m trying to fill with panic, or food, or general avoidance of my life and shampoo. It’s the numbness. It’s been absent from my day to day for so long now, that I didn’t recognize that lukewarm ache of empty space between my reality and my rational. But now, exiting the recently-boiled tub for the four-degrees-cooler-than-normal living room, I see it. The hole that I’m debating cramming more ice cream into, because I can always brush my teeth again anyways-it’s not a hole at all! (Which may explain the stomachache.)

I couldn’t tell there wasn’t a hole because there isn’t anything. Just a puddle of feels that feel too real, so no thank you, I’ll take a nap instead.

I had an idea tonight. What if I turn Darina into a Phoenix Queen? Then I can play with magic (fantasy novel win), have a secret order that can mess with gender, gather intrigue from church behavior in relation to folk fables, give a reason for the Dire Boscage to concern themselves, and play with fire/water sun/moon imagery. I think I’ll introduce it when the Mother of Many is walking back from the Godhomes with Kasidy.

Thinking of writing counts as prepping for writing. Right?

I feel like Frances in Under the Tuscan Sun, having just finished my procrastination brownies. Now I’ll become a writing machine, I hope.

I think there are three steps to a good day for me. After waking, I should write, then stretch/yoga/swim/move somehow, and then clean somehow. Clean my body, clean my teeth, clean my hair-clean something physical on myself so I feel cleansed in some physical sense. Maybe food should be in there, too…I can always eat a banana while I write. I know I can accomplish all that within two hours, easy. I should make that a priority

Spending time with good friends recently has encouraged my spirit. I am a lucky lady.

I’m going through a sort of a break up with my girl. It sucks. It’s complicated. Considering it came from a place of need, it’s being handled well. Slowly, with care and gentleness and lots of room to cry and rage and pile in for post-breakdown naps. I’ve come a long way, and am proud. I’m proud of myself, I’m proud of Niki, I’m proud of Matt-I’m proud of the three of us together, of them together, of Matt and I as a unit, etc. For such an unplanned and unwanted event, we’re all doing well.

On the phone with my mom the other day, she asked if I really see Jim regularly. I used a common example of being at the grocery, and seeing him charge down the aisle towards me. I forget most people don’t have that sort of thing, even some folks with PTSD don’t have vivid flashes forever. Although technically I guess it’s been twelve years, not forever. And they are very short flashes that I can recognize almost immediately for what they are. It’s much better than the CA days, when I’d try to wash blood that wasn’t there off my body, or couldn’t hug my grandpa because he was too male. It’s even a lot better than the NOLA years, when panic ruled and plans were only about 30% guaranteed, in the best of times.

I miss Ma-Ma. Sometimes I can’t believe that no one is gonna call me Eve again, or tell that same story about me forgetting to pack socks for Zanny, or to tell me the first three letters she recalls from the Eudoria Alphabet. And thinking of it, sitting now, with the numb edged in grief and confusion, I worry about all the others I have left to lose, knowing how I can’t be in all the places with all the people who matter. I straddle a line between apathy and terror, and the whole scenario makes me tired. But time unconscious is time poorly spent, when so little time actually exists between now and goodbye. I can’t keep sleeping the problem away. I don’t want to Rip Van Winkle my life.

So, tomorrow I’ll get up. I’ll write, and move somehow, and wash my hair. I’ll see friends and experience nature and consume food. I’ll invite the numb along, and even open the door for it when we go out. Better to make friends and be aware than to ignore reality. Besides-the best cure for numb is acceptance. I can accept the moment. Lordisa knows it’ll be changing again soon enough.

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