I talk too much – too fast – take up the workshop time. I ask “good questions” but am distracted and distracting. People stare. What do they see? Me, fat? Me, unsure? Me?
For some odd reason confused people ask me questions, assuming that I would know the answer, be able to answer, have the answer … do I appear ok to you? Trust yourself because I am not to be trusted.
I do not have the energy to get up to get my medicine in the cabinet. I am too tired to ask someone else to get it. I do not want to make the noise necessary to ask. I hate the sounds of chewing and talking and television and, jesus fucking christ, stop the useless babble! What you’re saying means nothing at all right now. What problem are you solving with your discussion? What good is it? Why bother?
I like silence. I would prefer quiet. However my mind is most unquiet and the world is deafening.
Every cell is shaking. I hold myself in static positions. Why? From fear? Of what? My husband keeps swaying his knee. The dog pounces on her toy and walks by my chair. WHY do people and animals just move about like this? It’s wasted energy. You must have a purpose for what you do. I click my teeth when I read and count – for every beat.
I just want to breathe, all by myself. I am the brain of the house – isn’t that frightening? It’s exhausting – I get tired. I have a hard time sleeping because once I start the brain wheel it spins and spins and reaches breakneck speed. You do not stop something like that all at once…or at all. It just burns out. The stops are very dark. The stops are very dark when you alone hold the key to the starts. I have a malfunctioning brain at the helm of a confused and abused body; certainly the most useless thing of all.
Alone for a few moments. I asked for this and am so thankful for the break from the noise. No typing now … it is time to bring it down. Just me, the wind in the trees, the chimes, and the dog.
Right hand on my chest, and the breath.