Estranged

I've been visiting family in Chicago for the past week - for the Christmas holidays - and today Christopher and I are flying back home. While I am happy to have seen and spent time with everybody (especially my brother, who flew in from Hawaii), I am anxious to get back to my own space... where there are more than enough places for me to be by myself.

I wish the Bunny were here... I know I would be more fun to hang around. I would be... happier. Everything seems very discordant to me; I think I am alone way too much already, but it's like I can't function properly around people anymore. Then I think, maybe I never could... maybe the only reason I could behave correctly in a social setting at all was because the Bunny was there to smooth things out. I know this is my self-esteem creeping up on me again... in this, my overly-sensitive emotional state, every comment is an accusation, every question is an attack. Earlier in this trip, my cousin's husband was giving me a little good-natured ribbing (this is what the logical side of my brain tells me), and too many times of snapping back with a "shut UP!" earned me a reprimand from my cousin, who got tired of listening to me. What I should have done was calmly and coherently express the condition of my mental state - that his teasing me was akin to a jelly-fish being poked with a sharp hook - but I didn't do that. Instead, I did what I always used to do... shut down and escape inside my head.

Christopher seems to be having a good time, and I am glad for that. A few days ago it was snowing, and he got to use the snow-blower and even make a snow angel (while I tried to push images of pneumonia and hypothermia out of my head). I've never seen this much snow myself, not to mention while it's actually falling. It's quite a sight. Back home everyone was teasing me about the cold tempuratures in Chicago - normally I am freezing when it hits 70 degrees - but I haven't noticed the cold so much during this visit. Could be because we mostly stay inside the house, and my cousin - unlike myself - keeps the heater turned on. Or maybe compared to the freezing tempuratures, I'm colder to start with.

My life with the Bunny is starting to feel like a dream. I often sit here trying to remember it, and then I stop and question: did it really happen? I look around, and little evidence is left to tell me it was real. Little of my happiness is left to tell me it was real. The zombies have eaten my brain and left a corpse, slowly rotting away... yes, a bit dramatic. But this whole situation sucks so much, I can't even begin to put it into words.

A long time ago I read a story that gave me an image that pops up in times like these. A rabbit was caught in a snare, and the more it struggled, the more the snare choked it. One of the rabbit's companions advised it to stop struggling, and by doing so managed to slip its neck out, and the story continued. Now, the rabbit is me. My story won't continue until I stop struggling.

Easy to say, much harder to do. Hard to know WHAT to do... I need to think awhile about what "stop struggling" means to me.

"How You Carry It"

"People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain."

- Jim Morrison, American poet and singer, member of the band The Doors