I feel really angry… and I’m not letting it out because I’m comfortable in this shell… I hate my life in this shell, but it is this weird dilemma of wanting to get out so bad and yet wanting to stay close in.

And I am learning this about myself… via help from really good friends who are helping me through this path… that every time I get asked the really hard questions or if it triggers something…. I get so consumed with my emotions… so much going on… anger, sadness, crying, heaviness, mixed with some resistance, drowning and a sliver of light.  But because I get so consumed with a plethora of emotion I begin to shut down… it becomes to much for my heart, head and body to take and so as a way of self-preservation I shut-down.  I stop talking and zone and try to be numb… it is a state and a process that I have become an expert in… and too familiar of a place to be in. and yet what is ironic about this habit and behavior is that in my attempt to preserve myself (until now completely unconscious of it)  does the complete opposite:  I bleed out slowly in some place no one will be bothered or concerned or notice…. I WANT TO BE NOTICED and for someone to cleanse this wound and bath in this blood of mine…. But I can’t  let them.  I can’t .  I won’t.  so instead I live alone and wanting so bad to smoosh my whole being and experience someone else’s whole self  and love…. Greater than I have ever known or can comprehend right now… and live passionately… people always tell me how passionate I am, but I hold back so much and don’t see myself as passionate at all… how can a dead person who wants to live, ACTUALLY live and on top of that live passionately… it isn’t possible.  So instead I have been emotionally anemic  and let no one see my blood running… running and running down my body and back into the earth.

All my art and images in my head and feelings are currently very ,very dark.  And yet it is almost hard for me to want to paint dark paintings b/c I desire light and color so badly… so I try to paint the color… and my color is pathetical done and not vibrant like I have painted before when I was much younger…   no maybe I just need to live in that dark for a bit… I do like that when Im painting and with all the images there is lots of dark colors… tons of overwhelming, intense color and fragments of light weaved in between… I wish I could put this down in a different way and create these images… but I can’t even create the colors right now…

I feel like my passion and expression and being surface and surface until they hit my skin…

Note to self:  sculpture project with wax….   Figure of man or woman… life size … stoic facial expression… but just underneath the skin(thin film of wax)  are words and things trying to surface but not every cracking the surface…..   a project to get done someday….

I think I’ve decided I like sculpture better than painting right now…. My ideas and images are mostly 3-d rather than a painting… the canvas doesn’t seem to do enough… express the volume and intensity like I need it to….

And it’s really difficult to try to live in a constant state of present and emotion and feeling and connection when the majority of people around me aren’t feeling…

I live in this very wonderful but very bizarre city of people who have the falsest sense of community… we are all trying to exist with each other but at the same time severing the cords that connect and allow us to live truly together….  So I guess in all this healing is it really good that I am in this city processing all of this, but it is really difficult too.

Another day… Sunday…

This week has been really stressful… I feel out of control… and my financial chaos and instability is making that chaos feel even greater.  I HAVE to start making good decisions, financially and personally.  End of story.

I felt kinda depressed this weekend… and I feel like more often than not I get depressed when Im alone and nothing around to distract me.  So I wallow and dwell on what I don’t have…  and being around happy couples is part torture/part happiness for them cuz relationship is so freakin beautiful… but always unattainable for myself.

And last night I had a really intense dream and then was consumed with anger and anxiety for the next few hours and couldn’t go back to sleep for awhile.  The dream was very sporadic and I never remember lots of details… but it was an all too familiar scene of my dad pushing my little brother around because he was angry.  And my dad angry is the most threatening thing a person can experience…  so being the asshole that my dad is, he was yelling and threatening and grabbing my brother by the neck and my mother saying “Charlie” and then my dad yelling at my mum for getting involved and stepping on his ego.  And then me coming into the room and stepping in front of my brother and raising my voice and telling my dad to stop it NOW.   He backs away and threatens me and points his finger at me and then gives the rest of his anger and frustration to my mother because we aren’t behaving as women should…

And in this dream it kinda jumps around to me having conversations with my parents about how much I love them, but how much I cannot be connected to this pattern anymore and how much they are hurting and fucking up the rest of their kids because of the choices they are making… and to my mother I began to talk to her and tell her that she is deceiving herself into thinking that she is doing the right thing by ignoring and pretending and relying “solely on Jesus”.    But she doesn’t get it b/c how can you explain to someone that they are dead and about feelings when that part of them has been dormant  for most of her life???    So I’m not sure where that conversation left off in the dream… but I just remember the feeling… feeling like “fuck, now I have to live with what I have said… and deal with the serious consequences of I have done”… feeling dread, but good that I stood up to my dad and telling him he needs help and being honest with my mum.   But mostly just anger last night.

What is sad is that I have had these dreams like this where reality repeats in my dream… this particular situation of my dad and my brother… but it hasn’t ever had a part where I tell my dad he needs help and my mom she is dead.    It has only been the reality… me getting in the middle of my dad’s abuse and then after a few days we are all smiles and pretend like nothing happened…. And I am realizing that every member of my family does this unconsciously… like a survival mechanism… if we don’t forgive and pretend and ignore what had happened, then we are ok.  (but in reality none of are ok)   and I want to be more than ok. I want to be happy.