When it comes to writing, there’s nothing that scares me more than a blank page. A fresh, new start. Something that you could make absolutely incredible or embarrassingly terrible. Usually once I start a sentence, it triggers some sort of movement of the cogs within my head – like a blockage that suddenly clears and it all comes pouring out through my fingertips. I know exactly why this is though; I let e v e r y t h i n g clog up inside. There starts with one little piece of something that doesn’t manage to make it’s escape when people ask me how I am, and it builds up from there, more and more adding to this chunk of grot until it’s completely stopping me from having any release. And that’s when the tension and pressure increases and amounts inside and then finally, at some point when it all get’s too much and it has to come out before I explode, I’ll try to find an “easy” way to set my emotions free.
Once lots of little things have built up to such a great amount, there’s no way of explaining it. I don’t know how to tell people. It all merges into one and I can’t pick apart any of the plausible explantions. I know that I need some sort of signal to flag people up that the fact is: I’m Not OKAY.
So when words are inevitably beyond me, the whole “Actions Speak Louder than Words” theory comes into place.
This is the point where I do something dramatic like cause myself harm. Because for me, that’s the only way that I can show how I feel. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want you to look at me like a helpless animal with a broken leg. Talking doesn’t help. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, I want you to get over it.
The next part of this pattern is the part where everyone finds out, and you’ve already had medical attention or whatever and you know that physically, you’ll be absolutely alright. Because then it feels like there’s some sort of truth behind the words “I’m fine.”, there’s no need to worry, it’s alarming to hear, but hey, here I am, standing before you, all in one piece! I’ll live to see another day, etc etc.
Shame that I know there’ll be a time later on where I repeat this unhealthy cycle. It takes 28 days to make a habit, but this has gone on for years; And the grime is building up again.
I wonder how long it will be til I next explode.