Am I Feeling Dirty Feelings?

My so called life

Life is pretty good for me. Since I don’t work until 2, I wake up around 8, check the time, maybe use the bathroom, check my notifications on my phone, go back to bed until 10 or so. Wake up, check Facebook, tumblr, instagram, then twitter. Then I go to the gym. Then throughout the day, I keep checking every couple of hours.

Around midnight I post something random on Facebook and go to bed and start everything over again the next day. It’s a good life. It’s an uncomplicated life. It’s my life. I just need MTV to film me so I can say to the camera, “you have no idea.”

Buddha said.....

What we think, we become.

Haha

The surface

I seem ok, but I'm not ok at all.

Sex to feel better.

I was very upset the whole day today. Just very out of my body, and I felt like I was too much in myself, and I could feel the blackness near my heart about to engulf me in depression.

Tonight, my husband was very concerned. He said that I wasn’t myself, and he missed me. He asked me how he could help me.

I said, “can we make love?” He smiled and led me upstairs. And for 30 minutes he brought me back to myself, and all the stress, anger, guilt, pity, hate, and at last, all there was left after I was brought back down to the world was a weight lifting off my shoulders, and such love for him. I even told him.

Me: I love you.

Him: I love you too.

Me: No, I mean, I really love you. I’m in love with you.

I wanted him to know, that this was the love I felt for him. I put all that feeling I had for him in my declaration, and I felt desperate in this moment. His one response that melted me, no matter how small was, “I know,” as he hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulder.

He made me feel whole again, he relieved my stress, he took my mind off my anger, and he put my depression back at bay.

Him: Did we have sex just to have sex, or to make yourself feel better?

Me: Yes.

Laughter ensues.

I’m so happy I want to share it with the world.

Kiss

Lips so soft, so gentle and loving against my lips. So heavenly. Tongue against tongue wreastle for dominance. The kiss makes everything better. Knees quivering, palms sweating, heart pounding. An ache fills my body. I revel in the kiss, so tender. It takes my breath away. No lips, no tongue, no quest for dominance. My eyes open from sleep. Just a dream.

Begotten is a 1991 Experimental/horror film, directed and written by E. Elias Merhige. The film heavily deals with religion and the biblical story of the Creation. This gory and entirely visual film tells the surreal tale of the death and rebirth of gods.

It's my pie...

The way I describe my depression is that I'm a piece of pie; missing a piece.  Now, you can fill the missing piece with another piece of pie, say, an apple pie, but my pie is blueberry pie.  So, the apple pie fits into the missing piece, but it will forever be an apple pie in a sea of blue berry, it doesn't fit, it's not going to fit, and sure it may taste good, but the truth is, it's not blueberry, and that feeling, that nagging feeling in the back if your mind, that blueberry is not apple, and apple is not blueberry, starts to drive you crazy.  So you do this.

You try to fill the piece of you missing, with cake.  Chocolate cake, mind you, which is kind of the best.  But when you fit the cake into your missing piece, the crumbs don't match up to fully fit into your pie.  So you get that nagging feeling again that not all is right with the world.  But the nagging feeling is now an itch that you can't quite scratch.  You, as the pie, just want to be a whole blueberry pie.  Is that so hard to ask?  So you do this.

You try to make a whole other piece of blueberry pie, a better pie if you do say so yourself.  But you know, and your mind knows, and your heart knows, and your big toe knows, that you can't just make a whole other pie when that old pie with the missing piece is sitting right there, watching you, judging you, needing you.

So you sit at the kitchen table, with the light shining on you like a halo, and you choose, I mean, you have to choose, right?  Life is all about choices!  You have the whole pie, and the one with the piece missing.  You want the whole piece of pie, because that's fucking happiness, and the other is fucking misery.  You want to be happy right?  Right?  RIGHT?  Or do you want the missing piece, and feel relatively whole every once in a while, but utterly broken?   What do you want?  And you ponder, because what you want is usually dictated to you, and you've never actually stopped to think about what you want?  Did you ask to be a blueberry pie? 

So I, as the maker of the blueberry pie, make my choice.  I am neither whole, or broken, I am on the verge of completion.  I make my own choices.  My depression is my own, and I control it.  I will be whole, and I will be broken, and I have to live with it, I have to be okay with it.  I have to be okay with it.

Sunday Comic: On the Right Track

I can motivate myself to keep going.

By Isabel.