still failing at writing. still essentially 'home[less]', and mostly jobless too. this has been one of the most trying winters of my life. don't get me wrong, i've been far worse off as far as my living situation goes, but what's going on upstairs has been taking it's toll. i'm disconnected.
three days later, all i have written is that paragraph. few sentences rather.. it ain't easy putting things into words these days. i struggle on all levels to express myself. it's about fkin time i do something about it. and so here i am, talking about it. calling myself out. acknowledging the fact that this time around, i need a little help.
where do i even start.. at the start i suppose. i've always had a bit of a hard time as a being in this plane of existence, for lack of a better summation. i know i'm not alone on this. some are driven to perpetual states of mental or emotional instability, some choose to exit this plane, some become stronger people for it. i've mostly slotted in to the latter category. there's been some pretty dark days, years even.. but i always managed to bounce back better than before. on my own most times, luckily at some of the worst times supported by a few pretty rad friends.
given all the shit i've been through in my life, both situational and self inflicted, it's a bloody wonder sometimes how i've managed to survive this long with my sanity still mostly intact. i've always had systems in place, rituals, tools.. whatever you want to call them.. methods of dealing with various symptoms of PTSD. i built up said 'toolbox' piece by piece, teaching myself how to deal with bouts of anxiety, guilt, memory issues, nightmares, a bunch of other mental and emotional crap, and all the physical dis-ease that came along with it. somewhere along the line i must have left that toolbox open, tripped over it, and kicked it down the stairs.
it's happened a couple times. this time it's a struggle to find the energy to pick it all up again. i've been disconnected so long it's hard to think back to where this episode began. i have a pretty good idea. i know i've mentioned it before, how i never really gave myself a moment to mourn. it's been almost two years now since my mother followed through on her choice to leave this plane. i guess it never really came up. i buried that shit so deep i never thought it would reach the surface.
i'm pretty sure that's why i chose the path i did from that day on. i always felt responsible for her. i'd run to the ends of the country for a while, but i always returned back home. i left my toolbox in her corner closet for safe keeping. i kept myself alive even on those days i really didn't want to because i had to stay strong for her. my little brother too, but for her i was her rock. for so so long, i was the only one that would brave the wilds of her mindscape, that could bare her presence to give her the unconditional love she needed ever so much. for so long, with [and without] her, i was alone.
her following through on that decision was in part her way of saying 'you're free now'. that was always one of her things. she felt that she was keeping me there against my will. she had guilt. i know the feeling. the days and months following her passing i was numb. there was the initial shock, anger, distress regarding the situation, but i stifled it and locked it all away. which meant locking away all of my feelings, my ability to fully apply myself to friendships, relationships, share any part of my life with what family i do have.. and so here i am. a good few thousand kilometers away from everyone and everything i know. the couple friends i do have here i've managed to distance myself from and i wish i hadn't.time to gather those tools and rebuild.
i've always managed to recover regardless of my situation, one of the biggest recoveries i'd made was while backpacking across the country with no fixed address. things are a little different now, and as i've grown older i have realized that one of the most critical things i need in my corner is a home base. i've been floating for almost four months now in winter no less, and i'm positive this has had the most major impact on my lack of ability to gather myself. i need a place with lock and key, a bed in which to sleep, a kitchen to maintain my physical well-being, and access to running water when i need it, cause you know.. hygiene. it's a thing, especially when making a solid attempt at being a functioning member of society.
i spend a considerable amount of time and mental energy focusing on my next move of the day, and harbouring the will to do so. how am i going to feed myself, where will i sleep, am i doing everything i can to still be supportive to my loved ones, that sort of thing. at the end of the day it leaves me with not a whole hell of a lot of energy to focus on more personal matters, to be creative, to be myself. and if i can't be myself, i'm no good to anyone. i can't expand on my horizons or psych myself up to be open to new things if i don't have that established routine. there's no space for random awesomeness, and no time or mental power to think.
there was a brief time there back in october where i remembered who i was. i was my-self. dropped all the defences, allowed myself to feel something. i ran into someone who i'd never thought i would find in this crazy world that could see through all the shit there in that moment, and in that moment i had hope. i'm in there somewhere. the me that i like to be, that everyone loves to see.. the passionate, compassionate, outgoing crusader of love. the moment was brief. i miss that me.
this week i made a decision to seek medical help. i've tried for so long on my own to get by and get through each day without being medicated, besides a little help from my favourite plant. even that can't curb the anxiety the way it used to. given the family history and enough mental, emotional and physical trauma to sink a bloody battleship, i'm running short on options and hoping this one can provide me with some level of relief until i can rebuild on my own.
that's about all i have to say right now, and it took me forever to get it out. thank you so much to the ones out there who have been supportive and understanding, it really means the world to me and i probably wouldn't be around if it wasn't for you.. y'all know who you are. just know that i'm not giving up, i don't do that shit. i just need a minute.