My Hell is ending. My god-like purpose is ebbing away. My creative flow is being dragged down the drain. The false, hollowed out clarity, and intense cosmic purpose is fading too. As is the promise that if I did what I was instructed, I’d get to travel out of state and kill myself. I have to stay now. My suicide has been stolen from me. Now I’m all sedated and bored and sad and scared and humiliated. Plus, my ability to pay attention has been incinerated. Nothing can be focused on long enough to distract me from this grating phase change. Cool.
Now I’m medicating, sleeping, and waking up to medicate. Oh… it’s time to medicate some more. Yay.
Recovery is happening. My spirit is so mangled. Parts are shredded and some pieces are gone completely. I’ll never be whole again.
Hmm…. I’m remembering something. A feeling I forgot and a memory that’s not just a ‘what’ and ‘when’, but an emotional sensation. It’s lovely. Like the first scent of changing Seasons; A warm summer night, Autumn leaves, Late-spring rain. Wow. How can something so faint and delicate hit so hard? Is it from my life though? And there’s more than one; How my camera feels in my hand while I’m photographing ordinary objects in a unique way. The urge to go out and buy myself a new sketchbook for my new ideas. Oooohh… that’s the electric vibe of sitting in a movie theater seat as the lights dim and the screen widens on the super hero hit of Block Buster season. That’s the good stuff right there. Are these memories actually mine?
Wait.
Wait you guys, I’m scared. I’m really scared right now. If I’m remembering life before My Hell, that means I’m forgetting what My Hell feels like. What if it becomes numb and distant? What if I can’t remember what My Hell feels like at all? How will I brace myself for when the next one hits?! I’ve got to keep my guard up. Can’t get blind-sided this time. Have to sleep with one eye open. Won’t lose track of this.
Not Ever.
No… No, no no No NO!
I can’t live like this. This is how I’ve been doing it the whole time and I still ended up in My Hell. To hell with My Hell! You know what I want? I want to be present to my core when I smell spring again. I want nothing existing in the back of my head sniffing out future misery. What about that Fireworks show I caught recently? I can see it framed beautifully between the rising buildings of downtown from the top of Capitol Hill. I’m leaning with my back against the crosswalk post, looking down on some gorgeous explosions that I can hear from five miles away. The finale thrills my senses while time slows down at the end of an ordinary day. That memory still shimmers inside my head, stored away in a precious part of my brain. It’s filed under the category of “Unanticipated Joy”.
Wait a second.
Is the inside of my head a safe place now? A safe place….
Am I still pretty roughed up and a little tender, but… happy?
Yeah.
I’m happy again.