I don’t know where to start. I don’t know if I want this to be structured or unstructured.
I think unstructured.
I am distracted. My puppy is exploring. I hear flies buzzing around. I hear the fan clicking. I feel a little ache in my thumb from just writing this. I feel an ache in my forearm… from writing, I guess. I have a headache at the rear of my head… occipital lobe maybe?
I was speed reading “One Percent Better” and got teary eyed.
Flood of emotions. No tears.
Twitching right eye.
I want to write more and understand this map, but I keep flooding out. I want to stay with it but I don’t know how much I should push my body.
Took a break and scrolled Facebook for a couple minutes. Saw an ad for a dirt work company. Started thinking through calling them about a job. I need the money. I do not want to lose the freedom though.
I quit thinking about that.
I think my cognitive side is latching onto every math problem possible in order to squelch my emotions. So quickly I jump deep into the details and variables. Is this one of my drugs?
Even that question feels like an opportunity to “off ramp” into my analytic safe zone.
Its going to take so much work to stay present with my emotions.
I feel the nausea rise and fall like the water around the needle grass roots as the tide moves. I hope my tide is going out.
I fell tears welling up but no emotion attached.
This is the work. I am naturally and wholly running away from the feelings. I am writing and thinking… albeit much faster than my pen. I hear my brain saying that I should start the next paragraph with emotion words. I feel huge resistance to doing that.
Fear.
I am afraid of how long this will take. I am afraid of what I will lose in the process. I am afraid of what I will miss… opportunities… because I am choosing to be aware of feelings instead of reality.
Nausea… again.
I should learn to spell that word.
Fear.
I am afraid that the infant hope I have will vanish if I make any changes. I am afraid that I am putting trust in something unsure and untested, something I cannot quite name. I want water, but I am afraid I am getting fog… hope. Hope might just be a grown up word for wish.
Nausea and hand pain disappear almost immediately as the thoughts flood in:
- I could consider the relationship between hope, desire, and wish.
- I could explore these words and their nuances.
- I could apply each of them to my life and see which one makes more sense
- I can reject them all because… I want to.
I feel hungry.