monday.

[sunfright]

It's a Monday today.

Evidently. I have a history of experiecing a "dive" on Mondays, not entirely sure what it's about. Maybe the relative "freedom" of the weekend becoming normal everyday life rattles my inflexible skeleton a bit more than it does most people, I can't say. Anyway, I also slept really poorly, so that didn't exactly help. I've done most of the chores I'd set for myself today, but I'm guessing I won't be changing the linen on the bed, just can't muster the energy for all those steps. It might happen later, but for now - I think I've used enough spoons.


I had to take a sedative earlier, because my anxiety was spiking too much to bear. It's a bit better now, but I honestly think that's got more to do with my writing than with the chemistry I've injected into my system. It's always a hit or miss whether the sedatives really help. I'm discovering that if my down-trip is all or mainly anxiety-related, they help a lot, while if there's too much sadness or emotional turmoil mixed into the anxiety, they don't. I'm still not very good at telling when my "state" is caused by one thing or the other, hence the hit and miss intake of pills, but I'm learning and I'm paying attention to my body throughout all of it.


I've now written five swan poems which is a "well done, me" situation. Writing these poems really help me in regards to emotional release, too. I've always sympathised with the White Swan in Swan Lake, in several versions she actively kills herself rather than facing the fate of being a swan forever and there have been moments in my life where I think I could as well have been Odette. She is my sister in despair, somehow.

So, writing these poems in honour of her and the ballerinas dancing her is cathargic in its own right. I treasure the process.


Today, I used my last spoon for now to write this. Unlike a lot of what I write, I can't force these poems into existence, they come when they're ready and that's when I can write them. There's something destressing about that, about letting the writing take on its own life and letting myself be nothing but a vessel for that. It requires some trust, granted, and I'm not good at that, but it is also the writing taking a burden off my shoulders and I'm eternally endebted to anyone who does that for me, truly.

Even when it's myself.

Comments

[hashiveinu]

Unlike a lot of what I write, I can't force these poems into existence, they come when they're ready and that's when I can write them. There's something destressing about that, about letting the writing take on its own life and letting myself be nothing but a vessel for that. It requires some trust, granted, and I'm not good at that, but it is also the writing taking a burden off my shoulders and I'm eternally endebted to anyone who does that for me, truly.

That trust is key. I'm really glad this practice is helping you.