pbbt. and eye rolling.

Do you ever sit and analyze how unhealthy you are? I don't mean physically, though that certainly plays a part. But more your unhealthy patterns, your dysfunction. I do. Which I am sure adds to the unhealthy list. Can't be good for you. I do not think. But it is fascinating.

I make things more difficult than they have to be. Always. Mostly because I am always blind. Not usually tentative. I plow forward taking what comes and doing with it what I feel I can. Which generally is not a lot. My own lacking, never anyone else's. I am not careful with emotions, because I do not understand them. What they do, what they cause, what they effect. Most people will not believe that. But I am careless with them because they have no meaning to me. So it is trial and error. What happens when I do this. It's also why I make things more difficult. Why I beat dead horses.

It effects my relationships with people. I only feel things in the scope of an amputee with phantom pain. I will put everything I have into them, until they are gone. And they are always gone. And will only remember them with that same sort of trickery of nerve synapses. I know that they use to be there. And that they use to be a part of me. I miss them, and it hurts, but it is only an echo of something that has already happened and has no chance of happening again, in the same way.

I don't think people understand this. I want to shake them until they do. As if violence will pave the way for understanding. I do not have enough faith. It requires a leap of faith, to stop having things be an echo, and have them be real. I have enough faith to soldier on, but not enough to build a bridge into permanency. That is where everything begins to fall apart. I am sure I have all the tools needed, just not the knowledge. Not the faith. In this case the two are synonomous, who would have thought that would ever happen? One as etheral a concept as love, and the other equated with concrete, solid. But they are closer than I ever would have believed. With all my studying, learning, looking, and processing I am only now beginning to understand.

I never start anything without being fully aware of its end. And while there is a certain romantic angst to to fatalism, to being tortured and wounded and arty; it does not herald well a bright future.Most of this belongs in a letter I have only begun to write. Which will lay unfinished more than likely.

Because I don't know what my point is. Or what it will change. Or even if it matters.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I am not sure if it is *unhealthy* to evaluate are well being mentally. I do it all the time. I am not sure I ever put friendships in terms of *amputee with phantom pain* but I understand the concept and it seems to fit oddly enough.

Faith is somting one must believe in to find. Which entails us to have self confidence. One lacking in that will find that things seem more dreary than necessary. But writing is a good step and by all means continue on it.