day four:

The

Earth would die

If the sun stopped kissing her.

— شمس الدین محمد حافظ / Khwāja Šams ud-Dīn Muhammad Hāfez-e Šīrāzī, The Gift

woke up with a song in my head. it may seem trivial, but when my brain blesses me with a tune to start my mornings i know i feel better internally than the mornings i wake up feeling numb, lacking enthusiasm to start the day.

yesterday was nice. to get out of Sacramento with my best friend. even if she was really only there to see a dude and made me a third wheel by the end of the night. but even that little day break from here was so nice and i just felt better being away. i did kind of wish I had a certain person with me, but seems like I have got to get used to that.
i slept like shit — my neck is so tense and immobile. the body holds onto feelings and manifests them, i’m no expection. especially when they’re repressed. i know this. i know the worst of days result in so much physical pain the days to follow. i used to hate this about myself. and i used to think it made me some sort of hypochondriac. but now i feel lucky to be so in tune with my body. i know when anything feels slightly off. i usually know why… and i can usually find the source. mentally and physically. whatever happened between my mother and i and being tossed into a temporary but shared space with someone who isn’t my official partner… made me feel like i just had to repress it all. i even had a day where i thought i was super manic and happy when in fact it was the opposite inside.
the song is “risk” by fkj & bas. it reminds me of when i first discovered it. back in march. and i remember listening to it on repeat as i got drunk alone the day after doing molly and luring over AJ to my apartment after we got into a huge fight. so … many.. fights. i cringe at all the times i was so desperate. all the texts, the calls, using my body and sex as a way to get him back. it’s sad.
i’m sad for me. because i know in the long run, i’ve only hurt and damaged myself.

“i’m jumpin outta our arms, i land and fall in a pit. is this what they call the abyss? i fought and clawed for an inch…”

i always think about the day i got caught with my high school boyfriend and my mother looking me straight in the eyes “you’re this desperate for love?”
yes. shut up about your mother, sonia.
i get it. i’m not this unique person with a plethora of mommy and daddy issues. i get it. but i care very much. i’ve held onto so much. i can’t seem to let go. i try to forget. but then i think in these reflection pools i bask in… am i? am i this desperate for love? how long have i done it the wrong way? how can i stop? i have a strong reliance on the physical for assurances. i use it to get my way. to keep my claws into something that is well past expired. to consume something that will just leave me sick and weaker than before.
why? i just get so wrapped up in the thought, the potential, the dreamworld.
and before i know it my feet are up off the ground and i’m floating.
but isn’t this just a huge neverending disservice? isn’t this just like drinking, drugs, binging, etc? it feels good in the moment. so fucking good. so addicting. and after it’s over you’re just alone all over again. a bit deeper in the grave you’ve been digging for yourself.

i’ve never done this before.
i feel like all endings have been fiery, dramatic, emotional, involved. and this is quite the opposite.
it’s slow, quiet, chronic, and detached. and that’s so unlike me.
so it’s a different feeling and can be enormously unsatisfying. but i’m not going to continue the same behaviors that have gotten me nothing but pain.
i’ve used everything like a tool to receive what i wanted, tools that are unhealthy and prey on desires and lust and pity… to get people to stay or come back into myself. i never once acted from a place of true love or love for myself because by putting all this energy into worrying about keeping someone i have used sex, aggression, insistence… and those “tools” are draining and low and embarrassing once you really think about it… and how it makes you feel when you look back on them. it makes me feel dirty and low and unworthy, and then i ask why i can’t demand worth and love from myself. even when the same person tells me that i am worthy and loved, there is still this attachment to those past actions i had felt i needed to perform in order to have this person in from of me telling me kind things. whether i have been aware of it, or not, it is something i can’t unsee in my behavior.
i used to think it was a great trait of mine. to insist on getting what i wanted, but maybe with all the insistence… i have forced so much that wasn’t meant for me my way that… i have only kept the wrong energy in my corner and pushed away what was written. that thought is quite scary, but can explain my general depression about any and all things. i don’t want to have to use sex or pity to get my way again. i don’t want to put myself beneath a certain level in order to evade loneliness and attention starvation.
more than anything, i want genuine love. i want genuine companionship. do i really think you can obtain that by constantly luring you back? of course not. it’s unsustainable, whether or not the present is chaotic or not.. it’s not a viable way to grow in love. it’s damaging deep down inside.

i listened to this episode with shaan boodram on girls gotta eat, which i will probably relisten to today. it’s funny how i’ve gotten so into it and then magically a guest that i have followed since i was eighteen-ish is on there. feeling like she’s speaking right to me. from that whole episode i just feel like… i need to stop operating on the scarcity level. stop thinking “this is it” and “there will never be another.” that’s no way to live. that’s no way to progress. how shitty to think someone would just stick with you because you’re the best they can get at this point… not the best to them at any time, at any age, in any location. i hate that. and it just reeks of obligation vs choice conflict. i think choice is sexy. i think being chosen time and time again when you have the freedom to make your own decisions apart from the other person is everything. and i’m glad i’m not the only one who feels this way.
i’ve recorded similiar sentiments in my love and relationships episode, but i feel like i need more time alone to really give my two cents.
nothing i’m going through right now can be beaten without solitude. without pulling it all from within. i understand that, fully. and it’s scary and makes me sad to kiss my old belief systems goodbye.. but where have they gotten me anyways? what do i have to lose that i have not lost many times before?

“don’t miss out on something great just because it could also be difficult.”

and difficult it will be.
i’m going to try to flex my creative thumb more. i’m going to put way more effort into the podcast. i’m going to network a lot more. i’m going to stop fucking worrying about who’s ever going to love me and if i’m going to be alone in my thirties because i’m a mess in my twenties. i’m going to stop letting my body image dictate my whole ass life. and my self image. i’m going to stop fucking drinking because life is hard. i’m going to stop playing victim. i’m going to be honest with the rush i get from anger and surrender it or channel it… and the satisfaction i get from pity. i’m going to focus more on the people and physical environment around me, less screen time… less social media… more focus on the tasks at hand, the moment in front of me. i’m going to stop being so fucking scared because i’m the only barrier i have to truly being happy.

i’m going to figure out what I want.
my journey. my healing. my timeline.

and anyone who wants me will love me for that.

the words & thoughts of a woman you found elsewhere.