Day Three - feel more like me
I had quite a long draft going before my computer blue screened and I lost it all.
Rationally, I understand that it is a simple and unfortunate coincidence.
Emotionally, it feels like a targeted Fuck You from the computer.
Why do I personalize the actions of inanimate objects?
I’d reckon we all do, and in a uncharacteristic shift, I’m getting sidetracked.
So, in therapy today
sarcastically saves draft
I was trying to quantify what it’s like in my reality to properly convey the frustration / friction I run up against every waking moment.
sarcastically saves draft again
Those that are bilingual (or speak multiple languages beyond two) take in the world in a different way, specifically, while speaking their non-native tongue.
They hear the non-native speech, mentally translate it to their native tongue, then craft a response in their native tongue, and then translate it to the non-native tongue, and then reply.
It’s a bit like that, but I’m going to complicate it further.
I grew up in a completely different world / reality than the one we all currently inhabit.
Now, I take in existence in my ‘native reality’ and ‘non-native reality’
My conditioned reality, and my understanding of reality.
These two realities clash and collide, they are inherently incongruous, they are Yin and Yang.
They cannot co-exist because they are in open defiance of one another.
In my conditioned reality, everyone is an agent of the Devil out to get my succulent, succulent soul.
It doesn’t matter who the fuck it is, they are out to get ME.
Your grandma? Fuck her, she’s a demon.
My husband? Running the long con to get me to trust enough to YOINK GOTCHA SOUL BITCH
Our dogs and home? The wonderful life we’ve created? All a cleverly constructed ploy by The Devil to lure me astray from the path of righteousness.
In my actual understanding and experience of reality?
Your grandma? So sweet, I adore her. She makes great cookies, and she seems to see right through the hurt to my core and listens.
My husband? The patience of a saint, loves me more deeply than I have ever known or deserve.
Our dogs and home? Exactly that. Delightfully dorky doggos, they get it from me. The house? It feels like home. It has since I laid eyes on it, and each day it only sinks in more deeply.
Now, those two understandings of reality are happening simultaneously, and unceasingly. I am at a constant war within to help the reality I know is valid (my understanding) win out over the one I know is unhealthy and toxic (my conditioning).
When the conditioning wins, I sink.
When the valid wins, I rise.
I sink. I rise. I sink. I rise.
I feel like the little engine that could.
“I sink I rise, I sink I rise, I sink I rise.”
Well, I think in this metaphor, I’m on the downhill slope on the other side of the mountain.
“I sank I rose, I sank I rose, I sank I rose.”
I’m done with the sinking, the thinking, and lies.
I’m not repeating this shitty cycle until I dies.
It doesn’t matter if it’s good, it matters if I tries.
Too much denial and it goes right to my thighs.
Anyway, thanks for stopping by. I’m figuring this shit out, and I bet you are too.
