The last few months have been such a blur. I started getting sick, then sicker, then before I even knew what was happening, everything changed. I wish I knew where to begin. I wish I knew how to explain. But I don't. I'm completely clueless when it comes to figuring this all out. For myself and for you. I'm waiting to hear from a therapist. Maybe that will help me to process some of what has happened recently. I hope so, at least. I'm not ready, willing, or able to start the process on my own. If I open the gate, I'm looking at a flood of emotion. Emotions that I don't understand and I can't begin to comprehend. Some of them, I've never felt before. So, help processing my new reality is going to be neccessary.
I want writing to take a higher priority. I have so many things to process, and what better way than artistically? I know I can't really journal my feelings because it's too direct. I need a process that is more subtle, but still helps the issue. Or issues. I've got so many now. I just feel so much heavier. I already felt that overwhelming pressure in my chest. Now it's spreading to the rest of my body. It's the depression, taking over. It's time. I know my cycles well enough to know what is around the corner is far worse than what has taken place the last few months.
I'm on a first-class flight to hell.
I'm not going to be taking anyone with me though. There's no point. I don't need company. It doesn't make me feel better to not be "alone". I'm still suffering from the crushing loneliness. That's inside of me. There's nothing anyone else can do. I understand that. I'm not looking to change that. I don't need people to feel like I'm expecting anything from them. Solutions, mostly. I'm not. I'm not expecting anything from anyone. In fact, I'm not accepting anything either. I'll deal with this myself. I don't need to feel like I'm someone else's dead weight. I'm my own weight. I'll carry myself.
From my misery comes the best creativity that my black soul has to offer. That journey, I'll take you on.