Coffee #10: Finding Inner Peace

Rather than the (un)usual format of vocalized conversation with you, I wrote a series of journal entries that better encapsulates my debrief. With all sorts of weather in the western and eastern hemispheres, I figured I'd respect your availability and write to you, rather than demand you come for a "physical" coffee meeting as per the normal. Feel free to grab some coffee before starting. :)

1 WEEK AGO:

Again, trying not to scream

Not a good time, or place.

I’ve always held back screams. My whole life is a jar of screams that I carry around with me, and cork every new scream into.

How else can I keep this smile?

If there is nothing else I control, it’s that I never scream. I keep that jar hidden inside my chest and never ever open it. I might self destruct if I did.

At first, the screams came from the silence of religious conformity. A stifled rage against the insanity, stupidity, fallacy. Then it came from the parental chokehold that I still can’t salvage or explain.

 

The Worst

Apparently, I don’t know enough about myself, at least not as much as I thought. I hate having blind spots. I thought I was doing alright, truly. I thought I had it. But that’s why there are mirrors. To help shine some reality down on the delusion.

I’m not special. But I’m not alright.

Despite working towards this improved, better ideal, there were foundational areas that were unsound. Understanding myself is a huge part of that, and now that I have arrived at the sludge of it all… I’m disoriented, a little.

Okay, a lot.

The me that I am. The world that I see. The people, the relationships, the disconnect of the entire mess. I feel like  a 3-pronged-plug trying to fit into a 2-prong-socket world. I force it, but it doesn’t connect.

So I don’t get any room, and I don’t fit anywhere, and I’m surrounded by… I don’t know.

I feel like the table in the presence of my enemies wasn’t spread for me. It was made to serve me on, nyotaimori style.

 

Home is Nowhere

Parents

Adrift

Empty

Fucked up.

 

This week

Silence.

I went silent this past week. Whenever I feel lost or ungrounded, I try to sink down into the quiet and wipe away the frantic voices that have taken hold. The worry, the downtrodden, the angry, the cynical, the dark, the exhausted, the snapped, the ‘leave me the fuck alone’: all the voices.

Then I try to understand why. Not strictly, but loosely.

Where is this coming from? Why am I reacting this way?

Finding the source, then finding ways to heal.

This year, I feel more zen in ways I haven’t had time for before. I keep saying how I’m reflecting and taking time to slow down -and I do mention it a lot because it is so novel to me. I’ve LITERALLY NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE and this has blown my mind in so many ways.

I’m not perfect. I have good days and bad, uncharitable thoughts and impulses. I don’t strive for perfection. I strive to improve.

That was a tough concept to conceive.

With upbringing of “Must be the best” and “A+ forever” and “Never fail”, perfection was a daily scale to measure toward. Self-flagellation for missing it became a regular, normal occurrence especially with the continued progression of time. The strain of meeting a goal that kept getting farther and farther away really did break something in me. And this fracture did more than fuck with my life, it fucked with my perspective.

It is so crazy to remember this and look back, as if staring down a kaleidoscope with no depth perception or sense of direct. How to ground self? That goes right out the window.

Structuring who I am. Giving myself permission -such a weird thing!! I remember it wasn’t until sophomore year that I realized, I can do whatever I want, I can walk around after dark and no one can stop me. Mom can’t tell me no anymore. Isn’t that sad?

Trapped within habit.

I feel like I’m breathing for the first time in my life. Alive beyond just going through routines and surviving, no, I’m doing/trying new things. I’m going shopping for new blankets, I’m experimenting in the kitchen, I’m finding a damn piano to play on for hours with no one to stop me. I’m writing again -stories- and planning to draw a comic soon. I’m focusing on my health and increasing self-awareness for health and healing.

I am empowered…

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Published by

opalflame

I am artist, analyst, author, poet, composer, musician to name a few aspects of myself. A bit of a jack of trades, I dabble into many fields that encourage the blossom of imagination and allow me to channel my creativity. I dream vividly and view the world through the lens of optimism and opportunity while acknowledging the ink and shadows.

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