Was so numb for days, but today I am not. And it hurts, the good kind of pain. The one that gets you thinking, moving and dreaming for a different, better life.
I know what got me out of lethargy. I always wanted to write, but I do not. I wish I could wholeheartedly claim that I cannot write, but I dont know if that is the truth. The truth I know is simply: I do not write. Have not for a long while now.
Yesterday I watched an explosive and brilliant bit of writing in one of my favorite shows. The kind of writing that makes you tense and ecstatic for having the privilige of enjoying it. It was about a character that had it with victimhood, with abuse and being a puppet in the live of others. Nine minutes of passion and rage and anger wrapped in a brilliant performance by Billie Piper. The scene was about a victim deciding to become the perpetrator. A classic trope, beautiful used.
What a fitting scene to rouse me from lethargy. I am trying to come to terms with PTSD, trauma, the need of professional help and all that downbeating stuff.
I too would like to become a perpetrator. But not of death and destruction, like that character, but of good art. Every once in a while this happens. I find something that pierces through the terror and anxiety and numbness and I dream of what I could do, who I could become. If I just knew how. But how not to lose it again? That ambition. How to hold onto those feelings?
I do not think I can force that. Some people believe, that if brute force does not work one is simply not using enough. I never found that to be true. I feel that I have to outsmart myself. To find a way to let the injured part of my psyche work for me.
Even though my heart often feels stuck, when I open my eyes I can see it is simply not true. My progress is immense, just not tangible. It helps having a beautiful partner, who often reminds me of that.
I have a half written book lying around, but I lack the courage to see if what I have written is any good. I would not know what to do with it in any case. I dont know what I am more afraid of: It turning out to be shit, and thus me feeling like a failure. Once again. Or it turning out as good as I suspect, and thus me feeling crushed with responsibility.
I want to make good art. Neil Gaiman gave this beautiful piece of advice:
I feel strongly, and have always felt, that stories are what I want to make, and what I was put here to do. I never was a person, who did not know what to do with ones life. I just do not know how. Maybe the Gaiman is right. Maybe I just need to figure out what I have to do before I can get to the place I want to be.
I am in the process of finding professional help. The first therapist I met was a disaster, but in less then 2 weeks I have my next appointment. And then another. And then I will keep going until I find the person who can help me. I dont have money problems anymore, life is good. All is looking good. I am not a wreck anymore. I just need that bit of help to pull myself up from the ledge. Professionel help.
Maybe I AM on the right path, even though I often do not feel like it. That is an encouraging thought.
Now I am off to make homemade sushi with my partner. Life is good.
I know what got me out of lethargy. I always wanted to write, but I do not. I wish I could wholeheartedly claim that I cannot write, but I dont know if that is the truth. The truth I know is simply: I do not write. Have not for a long while now.
Yesterday I watched an explosive and brilliant bit of writing in one of my favorite shows. The kind of writing that makes you tense and ecstatic for having the privilige of enjoying it. It was about a character that had it with victimhood, with abuse and being a puppet in the live of others. Nine minutes of passion and rage and anger wrapped in a brilliant performance by Billie Piper. The scene was about a victim deciding to become the perpetrator. A classic trope, beautiful used.
What a fitting scene to rouse me from lethargy. I am trying to come to terms with PTSD, trauma, the need of professional help and all that downbeating stuff.
I too would like to become a perpetrator. But not of death and destruction, like that character, but of good art. Every once in a while this happens. I find something that pierces through the terror and anxiety and numbness and I dream of what I could do, who I could become. If I just knew how. But how not to lose it again? That ambition. How to hold onto those feelings?
I do not think I can force that. Some people believe, that if brute force does not work one is simply not using enough. I never found that to be true. I feel that I have to outsmart myself. To find a way to let the injured part of my psyche work for me.
Even though my heart often feels stuck, when I open my eyes I can see it is simply not true. My progress is immense, just not tangible. It helps having a beautiful partner, who often reminds me of that.
I have a half written book lying around, but I lack the courage to see if what I have written is any good. I would not know what to do with it in any case. I dont know what I am more afraid of: It turning out to be shit, and thus me feeling like a failure. Once again. Or it turning out as good as I suspect, and thus me feeling crushed with responsibility.
I want to make good art. Neil Gaiman gave this beautiful piece of advice:
I feel strongly, and have always felt, that stories are what I want to make, and what I was put here to do. I never was a person, who did not know what to do with ones life. I just do not know how. Maybe the Gaiman is right. Maybe I just need to figure out what I have to do before I can get to the place I want to be.
I am in the process of finding professional help. The first therapist I met was a disaster, but in less then 2 weeks I have my next appointment. And then another. And then I will keep going until I find the person who can help me. I dont have money problems anymore, life is good. All is looking good. I am not a wreck anymore. I just need that bit of help to pull myself up from the ledge. Professionel help.
Maybe I AM on the right path, even though I often do not feel like it. That is an encouraging thought.
Now I am off to make homemade sushi with my partner. Life is good.
