You don't have to force yourself to bounce back so quickly. I read something recently that said "when you come in from a rainstorm, you don't expect yourself to be dry and warm right away", and it really resonated with me. It's okay to take time to dry off and warm up. Take the time you need to process what happened to you.
I've been quiet lately, regarding personal posts. Close friends get updates and pictures privately. Someone checked in with me, in between our usual ST banter, and that felt amusing.
I have plenty of my usual things to post about. Nail polish, selfies, cats. But I had a weird dream about my ex, and it's making me question how much I want to share publicly. Not a direct connection; general philosophy of values and actions.
Who is the person I want to be? And how can I stay true to these values when these emotions are taking a toll on me.
Events and reflections below.
Last week's dental appointment went great, followed by trying on clothes and buying a dress. I texted pics to my friend Jay, getting her opinion. I wanted to share those pics here, but I don't want another round of scam messages.
I looked really good, and all the dresses fit comfortably. The smocking was done oddly for 2 in the same style, and it distorted the design pattern on the fabric. Very important with the plaid! All were sun dresses with thin straps. I'm covered in the pictures, but it still feels more of a private moment.
Tomorrow is dental in Bangor. Either they're doing my root canal (as identified back in Feb) or it's just a consult. Not sure which. I don't want to do any shopping after.
If I handle the procedure okay, I'll give Jay the go-ahead to plan our slumber party. I even got little hair elastics for braiding our hair.
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I started writing in a physical notebook again. After things got bad 2 years ago, I switched to phone sessions for counseling, and my notes were on the computer. I've done notes on my phone before, but typing is very different from physical writing.
I hadn't vented like that in a long time, too. Anything digital has the potential to be shared, especially if taken out of context. A journal is intentionally and implicitly private. I need that signal to myself, more than to warn away anyone snooping.
How odd that I psyched myself out of the honesty I had with myself. I wanted to share things with my ex, and that got pushed to the side over time. Maybe I couldn't be honest with myself because I was afraid of facing the signs.
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I reflected about the fear of becoming a ghost, especially while still alive. To be forgotten and ignored; to not be valued. I got to thinking about "how do you help a ghost move on?" Thought I might try a story approach to sorting through my heart.
Usually, it's about revealing the truth of how they died (fighting injustice) or passing along a message. I've been open about my stuff with my mom, and I've shared my stories with many over the years. I don't have a message to pass along, mostly because it would not be understood or make a difference.
For those that are into ghost stories, I'm curious about the patterns of the genre. But I also understand that sometimes a ghost doesn't want to move on, or they can't emotionally process things enough to make peace. So what to do? I don't want to be a ghost. I'm working on being seen. But sometimes they still don't see me for who I am. (That's on them, but I want to be able to tell the difference in the future.)
I'm still kicking myself for the lack of return on my emotional investment. I don't know why I'm more anxious about moving on, as time continues. The bulk of it is done; I know I made the right call. Just the sticky cobwebs of warnings and hindsight that are plaguing me.
But considering my mom's impact still haunts me, and he repeated her patterns, I worry this will wear me down before it gets better.
almost exactly two months passed between the first messy sketch and the finished version, but it came together little by little. my phone camera isn't all that great, so the colors don't come across as well. it's a little cooler and less textured in reality. disregarding some details, it turned out surprisingly well, although maybe i should have gone over the teeth with another small layer of shadow. oh, well. it kind of reminds me of Francis Bacon's screaming pope, i'm not sure why exactly.
I watched the music video for "Blood Sport" (from the room below) this morning, and I kept thinking of your painting. I'm still very fond of the texture here, along with the little reflections and highlights.
Dad dug out the slide projector, and we've been looking at slides from mom's side of the family. Mom was really cute. We saw pics of her on the Christmas she got the Butterball baby doll. Crazy to see it, but she looked really happy holding it.
Looking at the second group, we're finding pictures from someone's funeral?! The casket and flowers, people gathered together. I said, "Well, he sure was coffin a lot!" Dad approved of my joke.
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