an outlet for the emotional dysregulation

Snippets of my life, as *dramatically* narrated by Julie Andrews inside my head.. Yes, you read that correctly.

[absurdlyinaccurate]

me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have an idea

[a-cloak-deactivated20241120]

“you’re quiet” yes I’m trying to gauge how weird I can be in this new social situation

[sonbunny]

[sonbunny]

[just-somedude-deactivated202502]

Aftercare? You mean like marrying her and giving her the world? Showing her that true love exists?

[allo-frouto]

yes, exactly that

[inmymindcottage]

My darling, was that really the right time to tell him?

It’s okay.

No need to be ashamed.

You felt your feelings, and communicated those to someone you care for, which is what we are trying to do more of!

I am proud of you. Celebrate your victory.

[inmymindcottage]

Was this good?

Was the question she found herself asking in her mind.

Was this a good thing?

The pounding in her heart and the heaviness upon her chest contradicted one another.

The tiny pools of tears that began to grow in her heavy eyes, encouraging them to glisten with- what?

Sorrow?

Joy?

The emotions were mangled together as though a toddler had come and mixed them all up with their grubby little hands.

A dire state of emotional entanglement and confusion.

[inmymindcottage]

Looking at the muddle of words on her screen staring back at her, she wondered if, in actuality, she had in fact made any progress regarding her mental health, or whether all of her efforts have added to the weight she carries, not just on her shoulders, but within her own mind.

How can it be that a situation she is free of, that she was now safe from, can still have such a substantial impact on her?

The trauma response was new. The other things, however, she had lived with them without treatment before, she was actually living, not just stuck in a perpetual loop of existing, so why was it such a great feat now that it was identified?

[inmymindcottage]

27th March 2023

There she was, utterly besotted.

She did not know what the future could hold, or what would be, but what she did know was, as she lay there, her head full of hope and eyes full of wonder, was that her heart was aching.

Aching for just one.

One encounter. One embrace. One evening. One kiss.

One minute, where it was hers.

Though that minute was far out of sight, she couldn't help but remain hopeful that she would be handed a telescope, and that, maybe one day, she would have that minute and many more.

But for now, there she lay.

Besotted.

Aching.

Hopeful for one.