Xoco Vii

Whatever my heart paints on this canvas

[xocovii]

I’d really like to get to a point where existing isn’t torture

[xocovii]

I’m trying not to lose my mind

[xocovii]

I’m so relieved I’m coming back to myself.

So much got, & gets, in the way….

This is hard won.

[xocovii]

I am experiencing feelings I don’t understand about a man I did not think could exist.

[xocovii]

Maybe what I need to do is the last thing I thought I would. Maybe what needs to breathe is precisely what I tucked away…

[xocovii]

I feel like I’m piecing myself together like a damn transformers lego set. Each bit that clicks in place gives me a deeper exhale. A pinched-ness slightly leaves my shoulders with every wave of gain. There is no replacement for having resources you need. No drug. No hug. No pep talk. I live in a body with needs in a society where economy is king that punishes the poor it created. A cruel joke. I’ll take the exhales I can.

[xocovii]

Stunned by kindness?? Frozen staring into space too spent from weeping relief, weeping grief, weeping shock. Yea, yea I’ll take it. Any glimmer of light that comes is mine. I know the darkness too well…

[remanence-of-love]

[xocovii]

Some hours all I have is the ringing chant in my head “Do not die. Do not die. Do not die!”

It feels like white knuckling the boulders on the side of a cliff barehanded. My tendency for monotropic thinking locks in like a protective cage against every ounce of suffering barreling down on me. For a few moments the chant is enough to cling to…until the pain ebbs temporarily or my mind finds another safe-hold. It’s all very precarious and there are no guarantees.

Determination can run out. I am not a bottomless vessel for teeth-cracking anguish. Some mistake a mapping out of survival reflexes to be a declaration of confidence in survival. No guarantees. Only the past can be mapped.

[xocovii]

Anxiety & sleep medication giving me heart palpitations & anxiety. Nice…

- The Trial & Error of Psych Meds

[xocovii]

Some of us are just trying not to drown…

[xocovii]

Today was hard. I don’t know why I don’t like naming that, but it was. Something feels like if it’s not the hardest day I’ve ever had I can’t express anything like that, but it’s bullshit. Some of us have chronically hard lives. Each day of suffering compounds. It doesn’t need to be breaking news by anyone else’s standards. I am the one living in my body, and today was hard.

[xocovii]

The irony of doing an anxiety fueled research binge

about anxiety medication options that are compatible with my chronic illness cocktail,

for an appointment with a new psychiatrist

which I’m now anxious about.

[xocovii]

The waves of sadness that hit me are…cruel. I find a rare reprieve for a few moments or miraculously a few hours and then the sorrow hits just as fresh. She’s never gone, just lurking in my stillness waiting for whatever distraction to meet its end. More often than not she’s a loud enough buzz even as I fixate on other things to make her presence known. I suppose when I find reprieve that outwits her, she must make up for each moment of missed lashings.

[xocovii]

I’m trying to listen & not contrive. If I’m pushing I can’t hear my insides, my most authentic self.

[xocovii]

Being poor, isolated & housing insecure makes holidays meaningless. Wish that wasn’t the case.

[xocovii]

I don’t know what degree of miserable I’ll wake up as tomorrow…

and that dread keeps me up every night.