I’m glad you are there.to know what/who is real that you are there and still see me I am made stronger within 

 

find the frog 

the armor of flesh

when you need a hug, find a vintage leather jacket and pull it tight.it feels just like a hug

 

scattered pieces

what happens to those emotions that got stifled behind the “shush” and “shut your mouth”?I imagine them now. Like stick figures. Incomplete. They run and scatter like dead leaves on an autumn breeze each time they dare to try and come out.I am outside of myself.i have wandered away.I don’t want to go back; so ….I look at them now…. and stare off to see others flying away that look like the string of paper dolls my grandfather was so good at making with scissors…. some too, torn off and duplicated and retried with frayed edges.they blow on the wind .look at them fly like flying kites that sail aimlessly across the sky as if it is the ocean as if it is the galaxy ever lost in outer space ….earth to lostgirl ….

the dissection of

emotions that I often write about 

I am just the sample; apparatus 

as I recognize …. “you intellectualize your emotions ….” my first therapist told me ….take them out, put them on the table yes like I have noted some others do to avoid facing emotions; so, well— and …. I can only write about what I know —so this, it is based off of my own.And to compartmentalize to compare it to intellectualize; it is somewhat the same —to compartmentalize you step away from emotional events as they are arranged in different boxes— each box is for a different mood and work as distraction tools in order to cope through life; specific to the self’s interests of that self’s need of protection and thus jumps in patterns like hopscotch; whenever one becomes uncomfortable or boring but —when you intellectualize it is with a more conscious objectivity; to reason with one’s self but to cut the connection with the emotion of it***

so.what if I reached for that first stick figure that ran away.that got shut up—pull it back ….what—what would you say little-stick-figure?I face it now.it is small.and blank.but the ink is running as if from tears on the paper and leaves a pool.”I’m sorry,” I say to it 

but it seems not to know the words.it’s hardly heard anyone ever say them

go to sleep little earth

 

*****💭A Breakthrough dear ed

so it occurs only now, as it seems remiss not to identify 

if I was so busy listening to my mother’s problems well it may somehow dawn where I forgot to think about me.nobody asked, I had to be quiet; blend with the furniture so as not to incite the rabid Hitler man masquerading as some jolly dad outside the yellow house.there, to site; I learned to ignore myself ….sometimes it’s a plus because you have no attachment to any outcome. but the numbness hurts even worse than the pain it hid after awhile. especially as you cannot identify it.it got lost under “shushh!” and “shut your mouth” but it is there.it is.forgotten without a bandaid it morphed into so many celves you see.where did she go.it does not matter.it just is….only I am quite stuck with that stabbing numbness worse than Novocain as it wears off.it should matter.gosh where did I put ….her….there was no place for her, you see 

Thoughts to notes/edencrypt

 

Thoughts to notes/edencrypt

“You don’t sound happy,”

what Bran begins with when he called today….we spoke for four hours. four. we had to charge as we spoke at some point but ….there are some people in your life that you are fortunate to know when it seems no time has passed ….we fall right into conversation. He is so easy to talk to I had forgotten this between us ….after so many years, just his voice ….and then it all comes back

maybe I needed this now ….I don’t know

after such loss of faith in people again and again 

he said,

“I admit I have been reading your blog—you seem always to say the things I am feeling —when I am feeling—but you don’t waste words, your words are so dense and …. you know—I’ve missed your writing, Beth who is what ….you write so well…. and coming from a Welshman that says something,” he teases me 

****

So tempting to just go, like 

if I leave now ….I know I’d keep going and never look back but 

to run blindly —we can’t do that again ….you can draw s road map with all the lines of where I tore my flesh with sharp objects and in most lights I hide them so—who needs tattoos when you are deranged and,you know, I remember the first one ….right there ….it is silver now; that one was for my mother ….I listened to her problems, I was her shrink and then —what did I get ….I met Chris just a little after my mother died —talk about projects; I did not come up for air until I had to call 911 that day 

to look objectively as if that was a sketch of how that looks in a dissection. what parts would I erase? devastations. back to back. should have made a better decision and how different would things look now

 so, you see,

it was panic. and he was not a great decision for me

the only problem with Bran was —well, at the time neither of us were available and I guess that gave me more of an excuse to beat myself about guilt but now?he says to me when we spoke,

“I don’t think she would care if I got on a plane and didn’t come back for six months or more.”

about his wife Clair who had just become pregnant when —why—Bran and I parted ways ….now over eight years ago.

shit. The child…. who is now eight and —I have to hold my hands over my ears when he talks about the child ….life is so fucked up 

“You just don’t seem happy,” he says, “I don’t like the thought of you ….with those delicate hands, miserable in the world.”