Just when I thought the house was unpacked my in-laws brought a heap of my husband’s things from their basement. The worst part of this was that much of what they brought had been boxes of items to donate. Now it’s here waiting to be taken away again. I feel bad because his parents had to rent a trailer. I feel annoyed that it’s here.
I’ve been lazing about and having productive days in between. Emotionally things are still unbalanced. When I’m feeling good Boy Wonder is down, and it doesn’t seem to have an end in sight. Moving on is hard. I feel our move to a new home is poetic. Moving out, up, away, on… there are some manys different movements simultaneously coordinating to create a safe and loving space. I’ve become pretty melancholic. A small voice in my mind asks if this is permanent. It wonders if maybe the melancholy is in exchange for my body feeling relief.
I continue to be overwhelmed.
There is no space here.
Only boxes everywhere. I’m afraid of making a mistake, being wrong, finding out I could have done something different to avoid “this”. My weakness as a Green Lantern is showing. Fear. Being afraid instead of being bold because I blame myself for the pain around me. I’m scared I can’t be better. Scared that my choices have all been wrong. I’m bothered that I haven’t been consistent.
I wonder what a younger me would have thought.
I wonder what an older me will think.
How does one take comfort in living? (I’m not suggesting death in opposition, but questioning the place of discomfort in the everyday.)
When I talk with my friends they ask if I’m still making art. I graduated in April. I have moved since then. I come up with excuses and reasons instead of boldly saying “No. I need(ed) time. I broke my heart, threw my entire emotional balance out of order, broke my husband’s heart, moved to a new home, and haven’t unpacked any of it yet.” I’ve started self isolating again – even from my blog. I just want to give myself a big hug and say “Hey kiddo. Just be Ange. Be all those things you aspire to be.” and maybe add “Don’t be scared.”
People have invited me/suggested I go to a performance workshop, but I’m not in a space to do that. I’ve always done performance selfishly. It’s about my need to communicate. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be rebuked or whatever. I want to be wrapped up in an unparalleled softness.
-Talk to you again sooner than later, Ange Kid.