how does it feel
to be real
I have disassociated
outside of reality
a spectator of the self
I see you humans
I play human games
I laugh a human laugh
but underneath this face
all chill mechanics
can you tell
the light is broken here
only an automaton
this heart won’t budge
this watchlike brain goes
click click click
still they laugh
and play their games
and I watch
no matter what happens
all I can do
is watch
Here’s a funny thing about myself. I always have majorly overblown confidence about a thing until I’m halfway into it.
“I’m not afraid of people. I love talking to people! I can face down a crowd.” Then I blithely stand up to tell a story about a coworker at a small friendly retirement party. I am shocked when, halfway through, my hands are shaking hard. I have to breathe and calm down but my punchline falters a bit. Am I afraid of public speaking? Looking back to when I did theatre in college, it was the same: one hundred percent confidence followed by shakes on stage.
“I like rock climbing! I like nature! I’m gonna sign up for this little class and learn the knots and then I can hang (get it?) with my rock-climbing big brother and sister.” I take the class, start climbing the first little practice tower, and hit critical mass. I am shaking so hard I don’t trust myself to climb any higher. My hands have locked down on the rock climbing nubbins. “I forgot I’m afraid of heights!” I call back to my bemused classmates from a whopping ten feet high.
I got to meet a new friend on videochat recently. No fear there. Slept like a baby. Excited, happy puppy enthusiasm. “Yay, a new person to love!!” We talked, and she was awesome, and the conversation was easy, and everything was fine as long as I didn’t get distracted by my own reflected strangerface and lose track of the conversation.
After I hung up, I started making some oatmeal. As I stirred the pot I thought, “Where is that quiet screaming coming from? It’s getting louder. Oh, right! My own head.” After some puzzling I figured out that it was latent anxious adrenaline rush from meeting her. DID SHE LIKE ME WAS I STUPID DID I HURT HER FEELINGS???
Anyway, I thought it was just a funny character trait, but now that I’ve written it down, I see it’s my old friend Emotional Repression popping up. Hello again. Let’s never talk.
I have definitely gotten better, but digging my emotional core free is a slow, slow process. Sometimes Repression pops up and bites me in the ass, just like old times. It bites less than before, but it still bites.
When something reaches inside of you
It causes a ripple.
If you are properly filled
This ripple is enough to spill over
Trickling out in warm saltwater.
When I was a kid
I was afraid of the dark.
I used to make myself walk down the hallways in the dead of night
With the lights off
Just to prove … I don’t remember what
Maybe it was pride.
Maybe I despised my own cowardice.
So I just looked at the light switch
Then stared down the demons in the dark.
I hadn’t gone to the dentist in eight years
A lost filling finally drove me to the waiting room
Where I sat, my stomach knotty with fear.
After that I kept up with my dentist visits
Through crowns and drills and fillings lost and gained
And stainless steel needles the size of Montana
Culminating in my most recent visit
A small filling restored with,
By my own request,
No numbing agent.
I found it was nothing I couldn’t handle.
Now when I go, I marvel
At my lack of fear.
I never allowed myself the luxury of feelings
Afraid that they would hurt others.
This has been the worst fear to overcome.
I have progressed from exploring my emotions,
To writing them out,
To showing them to the world
My family
And hardest of all, my dad.
Because I loved him the most
I hid the most from him.
Protecting him from my unhappiness
Afraid he would blame himself
Or worry about me.
Today he called me
Asked if I was feeling okay
He’d read my bleak poem
And worried.
I reassured him, the poem was old.
When I hung up the phone
I wondered
At my stability in the face
Of what had just happened.
Dad had seen one of my darkest pieces.
And he had worried.
But things are different now.
I can be honest with him.
His humanity doesn’t break me.
My own humanity doesn’t break me.
The self-loathing spiral
Never came.
Now I have to keep posting
As if I didn’t know he was keeping up on the blog.
Or rather, I know that he is,
But I am able to be honest now.
Sometimes I want to die
Sometimes I want to stab something
But mostly I love my life
And although I still cherish my family,
I no longer idolize them,
Or feel the need to protect them.
I have always considered myself uncommonly lucky
In family and friends.
Today I can feel lucky
And not feel guilty too.
I can feel grief and pain
Just as easily as I can feel love.
But most of all,
I can feel.
And I feel grateful.
And I feel free.
We affect each other
push and pull on each other’s emotions
if we drown we drag people down with us
if we fly others draft in our wake.
vent your frustrations into somebody’s ear
watch their smile disappear
or
laugh until they can’t help laughing too
love until they are loving you
It gets bigger.
Sometimes you are part of something beyond yourself
sometimes you are angry for no reason
and the people on the street match your mood
sometimes you overhear conversations
or see a trend on social media
which inexplicably echo your private feelings.
Is it the moon?
Herd instinct?
Illusion?
When I didn’t have feelings
I watched it happen
distantly curious.
Now that I’ve found my heart
I am swayed with the populace
flowing where they flow.
Ardently curious
and still no answer.
Fresh Hell 