Shards

I wrote this elsewhere, and decided to take it and go with it, try make something positive of it.

As I said, I feel like I’ve fallen off the cliff edge and have no clue how to prepare myself for landing, or what even is at the bottom, way too far off for me to see. 
This morning I had 45 minutes spare before work. And I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know how to handle the time. It’s not like I don’t have what I can do. Plenty I can. And nothing feasible. I hate it… I know something has to change. Just not sure what. And I also kinda feel that I just have to wait for it all to pass. Wait for the dust to settle before picking up the pieces. I’m just scared that whilst sitting waiting for the dust to settle I’m going to breaking the pieces into shards so small that it won’t be possible to pick them up again. 

I may have fallen off the cliff edge, and have no clue what will be. It actually defines pretty accurately what is going on for me. It scares me. A lot. I’m using. Sometimes. It’s not like I am. It’s not like I’m not. I went to get some medication that a dermatologist prescribed from my GP. I told him that when it was prescribed he didn’t want to give it to me since at the time I’d been using co-codamol. I told him that today I haven’t. He wanted to know if that meant I hadn’t that day but had the previous. I hadn’t. Not the day before that either. I did though this morning and last night. Again, nothing really. Nothing that would do anything, but, I don’t know. Sometimes I’m so calm, sometimes I just sit there and have no idea what to do with myself, and sometimes I feel like I’m creating an issue when there is none, sometimes I want to just break everything into nothingness.

Sit here and wait for it to pass. What’s the ‘it’? Until I get tired of this and decide I have to change it? I don’t know how to change it. I don’t know what to do. And yet I also know that I’m not doing nothing. That’s really what I meant about playing the waiting game. That I think I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing. And it’s just that time takes time. Question is whether I can afford to wait that time. I don’t know. I also think that it all seems like it’s the same, when in reality it isn’t. In reality I’m not in the same place I was. I was re-reading stuff I wrote, and it was all the same. It’s hard to see the differences for they’re so subtle. And being that I can’t see the changes it just makes it all seem like it’s a waste of time. Like it all has been a waste of time. I know it isn’t so. I just can’t see it. Especially because of all the things that really are the same. And some of the changes, I can’t appreciate. What, I should see it as major that when someone pointed it out to me I can see that what someone did is crossing boundaries? Yeah, it’s change, for if someone had pointed it out to me in the past they’d have had to do a whole lot of explaining, here, my friend was surprised at something that happened, and it took some thinking about on my part to realize that you know, what that person did wasn’t appropriate. I don’t see it as anything different. I don’t see anything like that making anything worth it. And, I know how I work.

I gave this analogy to someone when I was trying to explain how I work things through.
Puzzles. I’ve made some puzzles. When I make a puzzle I sort out the side pieces. Then I sort the sides into colours. And put the colours together. And put the sides together. Then choose a colour from the middle. Whilst I sort the side from the rest, I usually also do an extremely skimmed sorting of the rest of the colours, when choosing another colour, some more pieces that I’m not looking at yet I also sort. So that when I do the edge, or any other part of the puzzle, I’m actually organizing some other pieces even though it’s not something I’m coming to yet.

This is how I work with everything. When I’m trying to work something through. When I want anything to change. It gets me frustrated. Especially because everything takes forever. Like seriously forever. And I rarely can ever see the point. So something I’ve been trying to work through for the past 6 months is what I believe. I can summarize what I’ve come up with into 2 paragraphs, and raise 2 fundamental questions on it. It’s not like what I’ve worked through there hasn’t helped me. It has. And I know it has also because I’m fighting it. I wouldn’t fight something I didn’t care about or that had no impact on me. It’s effect is amazing, if I didn’t have to fight it. Fighting it doesn’t help me, but I am anyways. That’s also what’s going on. Fighting what I know a lot, fighting that it’s so, for I don’t want it to be. I want control. Yet, it seems pointless. I guess pointless isn’t the right word. It’s not pointless. It seems worthless. Relevant. But worthless. I guess I feel like everyone, not sure who the everyone is, or no one, whoever the no one is, works this way. That they all will just get it. They’ll take a week to read through something, form their own opinions and apply it. Whereas I take 6 months to write 2 paragraphs with a question on each.

And life is like that for me. It’s not like I don’t get anything. It’s not like it’s really true that nothing changes. Things change. I just can’t see it. For they’re so minor. And yeah they’re real. And then I fight what changes. Until I can accept it. And then I will fight it again. And then, yeah, I don’t know. I just want to see that it’s worth it.

Shards. I feel like I’m breaking everything I had into pieces so small that they’ll never be able to form anything again. Does that matter though? Does it have to make a difference? So I won’t be able to pick those pieces up to form anything. Instead I’ll have to form whatever I want. All possibilities open in front of me. Unlimited. Coz’ the infinite can give me infinite possibilities. Well, if I want to form anything ever, whenever ‘this’ whatever ‘this’ is passes, by then I’ll probably have stopped hating the fact that there is a power in control, and use it for my benefit, instead of destroying myself to be in control.

I’m tired. I don’t think this is really what I meant when I was going to put something positive down. But oh well. It’s something anyways. And has taken some of the strands flying about and made some semblance of order from them.

So long,

Eliza

Change

I wasn’t sure whether to post this as a reason, so I’m linking my previous reason here http://elizareasonstolive.com/sixty-two-change/

Change.
I’m scared of change. I hate change. I want what I know.
All is good. It’s interesting, for according to AH, what I wrote (I sent him a link to what I wrote elizareasonstolive.com/letter-to-myself-25th-march-18/) he replied that it’s cautiously optimistic. I would have said freaking awesome lol. So yeah it’s good. Not necessarily always easy. The good comes with what’s hard. It’s good. Change. Life changes. I don’t want change. I hate change. I’m scared of change. Did I say this all already? I want what I know… what I know is familiar to me. I know how to handle everything. I know what to expect. I know what happens. I know, for example. that if I’d go enter an email account that I don’t have access to, that I wonder if I can hack into, I’ll rp, I’ll feel guilty and confused. I’ll hate myself. And want more. I won’t consider rp’ing through words enough. Unless I listen to what I’m told. In which case it would be pictures/camming too. It’d have to be. It’d have to be complete. Instant. Which it won’t necessarily be. I’ll be obsessing. Constantly checking for replies. Trying to get what can never be enough. I know what happens if I rp. I know what happens if I watch bdsm/abdl. It’ll actually lead to me fighting self harming. Though when I want to self harm I’ll wonder why I want to and think it has nothing to do with what I watched. I know what happens when. I know what to expect. Did I say that I hate change yet? I think hate isn’t strong enough. Abhor fits it better. Despise. Did I say that I’m scared of change? I think scared is wrong. Terrified. Freaking petrified. Change. Life changes in a good way. I’m okay. I’m not used to it. I wonder actually if that had anything to do with messing with the codeine I found. My friend laughed when I told her I had a sheet with one so automatically took it instead of throwing it out when it’d be a waste. I asked her what someone who wasn’t me would do… she said throw it out. Or keep the sheet with just one for when it was needed. I was trying to clean my room so was clearing up. But it isn’t the same as it used to be. For if I’d take one it’d have to have been more. I’m doing things I couldn’t in the past. Things that would mean I’d use (like blowdrying or curling my hair) so I didn’t do or only did with people around me, and even then it let to wanting to burn, or actually doing so, which it doesn’t mean now. It doesn’t mean I don’t mess up or struggle at all. It’s actually probably better this way. That it’s not all hunky dory. For then there’d have to be a major drop. As I said, I feel like I’ve fallen off a cliff and I have no clue what lies at the bottom. Well, there are rocks there too. I can direct myself there. There’s the cliff face I can push myself onto. There’s the familiar, the known, that however much it hurts, I know it. I know what to expect. I’m scared of change. Terrified of it. I abhor it. Despise it. Change frightens me. For I don’t know what will be. I am living in the moment. Just living with what is. Appreciating it and am oh so grateful for it. I’m still not getting sleep. The days, the world, is way too intense for me. And I know that the world is way more intense than I’m experiencing it right now. I’m living in a world of colour, but it’s muted colour. It’s scary to realize that it gets way more intense than this, when I don’t yet know that I can get to grips with this. I’m trying to give myself time and space. Trying to spend time with people too. Trying to get out every day. Have to still go out today, been in the kitchen most the day. I got my niece to fall asleep on me. It brought with it a mix of emotions. That’s change too. I never would know what I felt. I may not really know now. But I know it’s kind of, I want that. I want my own kids. Yet, I can’t. I’m not there yet. Any relationship I have to have I wreck. I’ve done it always. And nearly wrecking it with AH, showed me just how much needs to be different before I can date the kind of person I want to. I’d never want to marry a guy who would put up what I’d do to him now (best part is that it’s unintentional. I don’t try to push away anyone who I want to be in my life. I just do.) Besides that I don’t know what I want from a guy. There’s change too. I worked it out with AH. I’m on speaking terms with him. I’m scared of change. Yet I’m grateful for it. They’re both true. I want to go back to what I know. I want to stay with the new and see where life takes me. Both true. That hasn’t yet changed. The contradictions in every single aspect of life. I wonder if it ever will. Unify itself. If I’ll ever live without the duality, without being pulled, constantly, in two opposing directions. So yeah, change. I hate change. I’m not sure how often to say that. It just needs the emphasis. Yet, I’m okay with it. I hope I stay okay enough with it to stay with it. Not to wreck it in order to go back to what I know. For now it’s about this moment in time. It’s about living in the present (which with the film that is still there it’s hard to do). It’s about choosing the right thing. Trying to acknowledge and accept what I want. And live with it. So yeah I don’t want to see what can be as I’m scared. And that’s okay. I’m scared. And it’s okay to be scared. Doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it.

So long,

Eliza

Random, SH, 28th March

I was cooking and managed to cut my hand. Nothing major it just stings. And I should be washing up and plastering my hand, which I can’t be bothered for. It makes me wonder. What it’ll be like to do this intentionally. I haven’t gone there in so long. Cutting never worked. It did at one point and then at some point in time I realized that however much I’d cut it would never be enough. I’d sat there with a razor for half an hour. And it couldn’t be enough.

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