After being knocked on my ass, for a brief moment, I am back on my feet. Potentially? I am learning to be more resilient against myself. In another conversation with my mother, I told her "I am learning to get along with myself." Which is the truth the truth, I am learning to get along myself in the hopes that it makes my interactions and relationships with other people better, stronger, healthier, more honest. Oh it kills me, almost literally but I coaxed myself out of it by whispering between whines "be the tree, be the tree, be the fucking tree, savannah." And yesterday I was driving in the car talking to myself in a casual tone, which I thought for a second might make me crazy, but then decided that wasn't the case. I am trying to find the right balance, which I have never really had much of I tend to lean towards the extremes. Sometimes, I forget just how much I love my cousins, I forget that we are connected by weird invisible threads that seem to get tugged every now and again to remind us. I believe a lot in the things I can't see and I believe whole-heartedly in the science of welchiness, some weird mix of traits that we can't seem to escape no matter how far away from each other we move. We weren't even raised the same way or in the same places, and yet here we are, half the same.
THANK THE GOOD SWEET MOTHER NATURE FOR THEM. because sometimes when I am drowning in self-pity, or whatever sort of troubled waters I've thrown myself into, they are around to listen to me mumble and ramble and to calm me down.
Some things are hard to cure, they are, they are, but I am tired of dwelling, so I am going to eat cookies and love things forever and move on from all of the things I have stuck myself too. Yes paved parking lot I will accept you and stop accusing you of stealing my ever-favorite potholes. Loving things forever is scary really, but I see no other way to do things.
A day later my cousin writes:
"I once had a conversation with Pam about this disconnect and how it is maybe endemic to most of us, Welches that is. We live in our heads and our hearts more than we live in our bodies. We do not always connect with what our hands are doing, do not accept an innate flow between body and brain."
and maybe that is what I am trying to do, trying to understand the connection between my emotional self and my physical self, when really I don't see one. I can always remember feeling, I don't know where they come from but there is the "8th grade summer feeling" and there is the "Middle school nerves" feeling, and a lot of feelings that don't have names, but they are each different, and I know they are different, and I know that there are not enough names for all of the feelings we have. But I can connect feelings to physical states, but I can not connect physical states to feelings. It is always the feeling that comes first. I wonder if that is backwards from how most people do things. But sometimes I feel some weird emotion and I sit and think what is this from, what is this from? until I get a flash of a memory, usually me in a car, or me in a room or me with someone important and then, then I remember. My memory seems so blurred, even the things that happened this morning seem like a dream, but the emotions never do, they are the only things that ever seem real after the fact.
I wish everyone I knew had a blog full of their inter-workings, because I find them inspiring/interesting/they seem to help me push through the things in myself that scare me.