José Olivarez, from my therapist says make friends with your monsters
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José Olivarez, from my therapist says make friends with your monsters
I Do Know Some Things Richard Siken
Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice
Meteor Shower - Mia Bergeron , 2025.
American, b. 1979 -
Oil on panel , 11 x 14 in. 27.94 x 35.56 cm.
Fredrickson (1992). Repressed memories: A journey to recovery from sexual abuse.
'I am born of a thousand storms'. Harry Clarke. 1920.
“I want to raise up the magic world all round me and live strongly and quietly there.”
— Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written c. February 1934 (via violentwavesofemotion)
Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959
and I always thought that it was just me outside of time, or rather - too throughly within it (uncontainable, unexplainable by normative notions of it)
but I’ve been reading stories and hearing things and maybe it is a magic that is not mine alone but shared
I can’t believe that School is not about rote learning nor white dead philosophy anymore but instead active discussion of magic and meaning and nonsense, albeit academically (jarring, infuriating but also, I can’t discount it - extremely cool)
turns out there’s a legion of grief-zombies sickening and threatening with their refusal (just like me)
abject and free and demanding (abjection is not bad, I had gotten it so wrong)
they’re writing, (writing themselves into existence), that they do not belong in this world (neither do I) but they persist nethertheless and they’re saying that they don’t want to be fixed (maybe everything I was afraid of, maybe i should be embracing everything I was afraid of)
it’s so… confirming… to be exposed to more of this from within a tiny corner of an (Top Rated) Institution and yet the stipulations or rather the circumstances (in person seminar, real life) is so so taxing. it’s like it’s ripping me apart (amazing) it’s like it’s ripping me apart (exhausting) it’s like it’s ripping me apart (the juxtaposition I can’t calculate it - headfuck)
But when I get home
But when I get home from the tiny city with all its people in it
But when I am home after trying to do the thing I love the most but cant do (the exhaustion)
When I get home from the rain and the fresh (polluted) northern air
But at home in the evening after trying trying trying
calm.
I am seen
And I can see
I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see so much before
And I’ve certainly not been seen before
I did not know that I could… that we could meet someone… outside of time… someone who knows what it’s like outside of time… who knows magic and multitudes… who is magic and multitudes and the nuances and delight it’s ripping me apart (exploding and free and slight terrifying but so so safe and free)
-
There must be a reason that it’s all happening at once (magic)
[ I.e. the intellectual + emotional challenge of the course, the Real Life aspect of going in, meeting and being around new people, the new city + being away, not to mention the other big magic thing]
I didn’t know it and I don’t entirely feel it but I am ready to be turned outward, no longer locked away within myself
and I may feel exposed like rotting meat on the pavement
but its time now to open and let the birds fly out
Patagonian mountain lake in the rain - Torres del Paine National Park, Patagonia, Chile, March 2025
Photo by: nature-hiking
what do you do if a child that was you wants to show you to take you to hell - you’re trying to accept her because no one else does they say they just want you to live and be ok - you want to go in there to see what happened but you’re worried that once you see it you’ll never come out - he said that its secret and you promptly forgot waking in the morning a foot taller and the table so low - in that space you’re always 4 and you’ll never grow taller - you wonder if you knew what happened then you’d be able to let go of it but your worried you’d shatter this time for real - worried that parts contain more than you thought you don’t want them to be people but they insist they are - when she’s right there it’s like she is you and the pull so strong like a magnet at the bottom but the others rather see you bleeding than have you know.
did she die there as a child a haunting the dead and buried want you aswell
maybe if you saw him they’d go away
maybe if you saw him this time you’d die in the material world off a bridge
maybe if you saw him you’d finally be able to let go
when e.e. cummings said “i’ll live my life if it kills me”
when andrea gibson said “i suppose i love this life, in spite of my clenched fist.” & when ellen bass said “to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it”
when james baldwin said, “this is why one must say yes to life and embrace it wherever it is found-and it is found in terrible places; nevertheless, there it is;”
when Mary Oliver said “it is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in this broken world”
parts are coming up so much and making me sick
I think they’re really just not happy with me moving forward in life + new city + going to uni + the prospect of having to do something with my life next year after uni is really making them freak out
I keep forgetting about them and doing stuff in my real life but then they just come back again with such vengeance
I think we will try go to the mental health drop in place soon to see if they know about any groups or anything that could be helpful
I know we need specialist intensive therapy but we got rejected from EMDR (not that we particularly wanted it or believe in it - AP just wants less physical symptoms) for not being a considerable enough risk to ourselves earlier this year when I was actually suicidal (for the first time in like 10 years, I think bc we didn’t make any attempts) so I feel as though secondary MH services will be unavailable to me here / I’d want a dissociation specialist anyway.
I just need help on how to help parts + also do my AP everyday normal stuff… atm it feels like I’m ill equipped to do either properly and just in a cycle of doing ok and then being ill again with no change or progress
I hate it when I becomes we
when it’s us instead of me
unraveling
time and order collapsing
and everyone is here
out of the shadows into the light
a big fight
simultaneous and rapid
[it’s not fair that you get to look outwards and I don’t even know who you are, gone again so quickly that I don’t even have a moment to register you before… before… before what? I forget]
I don’t want to look but I’m mad that I don’t have a notion of who or (for) what (purpose) you are.
James Cagney dances down the stairs in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)