The chaos in my mind right now is just that, chaotic. I need him to know that it is and I can’t stop it. I can’t say it in fear of being told I’m crazy. Maybe someday I will be able to. We will see. Until then the chaos gets written out. For no one to see.
I feared it was because I shared what’s in my mind. That I wasn’t good last night. It’s supposed to help sleep and it didn’t. I took a risk but wanted to so I could also sleep. I’m not sure that’s what helps me sleep. It was staying that did. That someone there is what helped me sleep. I took a risk sharing who I am when I’m not talking but thinking. It’s more intimate than sex for me. It’s a bigger risk than any minute with me. It’s a moment with me inside my head. What no one knows is there.
I feared it was that I didn’t sand enough. Not right. Didn’t do something right. I was waiting to hear I needed to leave. I was waiting to hear this just isn’t working.
I had my phone on music and I sort of get hyper focused on some things. Like drywall mudding. Which I did. I didn’t see all the messages saying things. I wasn’t getting messages in the basement. I thought I was left there. I thought he left to be somewhere better. I thought again of all the times this has happened. Then it compounded into made up scenarios I couldn’t stop. Now I have de-railed. I have gone off the tracks of normal moderate over thinking to severe again. I just became a moderate over thinker in winter so it is sort of new to me. Can I get back to it on my own? What if I said all these things out loud could I get back to it all from someone else? What if I tried? What if I don’t?
I may be someone who needs more than I thought. I cause myself such misery. My chaos consumes me and I create scenarios that don’t exist. I can’t stop them or numb them. I become a walking what if. I forget about the what the fuck side of me. I may need told Im right here. Don’t worry. Sit. Be quieter. Listen. Don’t talk. I won’t leave. I may not believe any of them.
I now can’t even remember all of the things I was afraid of for 2 hours. Just two hours. I’m relieved no one can see what I think. I’m relieved I didn’t say any of it. I’m relieved none of it is likely true.
What if some one could read my mind? What if I could read my own? This is why I write. To see what I think. What if I could just do it and not need to see it? I’m relieved I’m not blind. If asked I would chose to lose my hearing before my sight. Why would someone even ask me this? I don’t need to hear to know or feel or see I have to see to know and feel or hear. If I didn’t see I would lose them all. My eyes are my ears and a window to so much. The brain is fascinating. All full of thoughts when it’s just full of brain matter. Thoughts look like brains but brains just look like brains.
I remember. Think of all the women who would want to touch the face I got to. Why me? Why do I get to? We are clearly learning so much from each other. Or at least I am from him. I have never done any kind of home remodeling project with another human. Besides my dad of course. He seems good at it and picks up quickly. Easily distracted but also not. Didn’t seem to care I was getting filth all over me. I’m the worst dry wall mudder. I get it everywhere on myself.
I’m the worst at opening cereal boxes. In fact all things that are closed and need opened by following the instructions to open I can do with the grace of a shredder. Because they never open right. I rip them to shreds out of frustration that they don’t open on the dotted lines laid out to allow them to open. Or that the glue was too strong on one side of the cereal box and now I have to put the cereal in a container from destroying the box and the bag inside and maybe even have to sweep the floor and throw away an entire box of cereal from poor cereal box opening design. Listen to me blaming my lack of patience on cereal box design.
Why did he leave me for so long? 2 hours is a long time for me to go without knowing what is going on. I could have asked but was afraid. I then got focused on finishing so I could leave since I had been left. In my mind. I know he needed to eat and needed a bathroom. Then just nothing for a long time. I don’t trust cell phone signals. I sometimes turn my cell service off so I don’t get bothered. Then I miss very important things that I needs to know and asked even. But I had peace for a little bit. Did I though? I don’t have peace for a little bit ever.
I fear it was the last time. I always do. And always will. I fear it is the last time for everything. It is both a nightmare and not. It makes me go in whole hearted and love big but right before that o am certain it is the last time. Then when it’s not I am so relieved I love whole hearted and all in again, in case it is the last time. Because sometimes it just is. I’m not expecting it but preparing for it. Just in case I kiss longer and harder and really remember and really be right in the moment so I can remember it forever.
I found a have a twitter account. It’s 5 years old. My sister said did you know you have one? I did not. I’m not surprised when I decided to sign up for social media I really signed up. I did them all. Then never did them all. Then closed them all quickly after realizing I am not a follower. And I also don’t like to be followed. I’m not a leader either. And I also don’t want to be lead. I just want to do what I want.
I tried to log in to the Account to shut it down. I’m relieved it wouldn’t let me. I am not attached to that life anymore and I don’t want to see it. My sister said I literally retweeted something from Starbucks and then never again. I had 9 followers and was following 60. Sounds a about 1 too many to be following me. I don’t know 9 people well enough that I want to tweet them. I am sure the 60 I followed were people I shouldn’t follow.
Then I thought, I’ll open a new one. I’ll tweet all day long. I’ll shop for people to tweet and they won’t tweet me back. I’ll tweet all day long and never do my job or take care of my kids or most important myself. I’ll worry who is doing what from their toilet and what their thoughts are on everything from masks to dog toys. Ill know all the presidents issues. We will be BFF’s. I’ll know about other countries and states and places to go that I wish I could but can’t. Because I am right here tweeting instead of working or pooping. I’ll watch weird videos of other people’s lives and never think of mine again. Sounds amazing right?
But I am right here not tweeting. Currently I’m writing about being unable to tweet. So I can work all day without worrying about why I can’t tweet. I want to be someone who can casually pop onto a social media sight and pop off in a casual manner. But there is no end to it and I am always looking for the end. I could just casually share an opinion and not worry about what anyone thinks about it and says about it. Casually discuss coronavirus. Causally discuss lives that matter and ones that some think don’t when it’s risky to say all lives do them you are saying some don’t somehow. I could casually go on and look at other lives without comparing them to mine or seeing why I’m not part of theirs. I could casually go on and look for something I know is missing in myself. But I won’t. Because I did. And it is not there and there is no end to the internet. I’ve looked.
I went to the bookstore for the first time since the whole world shut book stores down. It was weird. For one. No one greets you or asks if you want help anymore. For the record they don’t in home remodeling stores either. We are all to afraid of each other to want to help with books and buildings. Are they told this? Is it said at company meetings now. Don’t approach people. Stay away. Stop the spread. Don’t help others.
They have all their new releases in one spot and it’s super bright. Like the banners around it are so bright I thought it might be the only thing in the store. They don’t want you to actually be in there so right in front is everything you need, but, don’t touch it if you aren’t going to buy it. What? I was too afraid to actually look at books. I didn’t want to be approached and told not to touch books. I wanted to be approached and told. Welcome back, we missed having people in here touching books. But no one knew me there before and they don’t now. I’m just a book person with no followers. Well I have 9. I’m sort of curious who they are too. Not that curious but a little. I suspect all family.
I bought 2 books based on what they looked like on the front and that one was someone I read and the other just had big fire in the woods. I googled both titles with my phone and then decided to get out and not kill anyone with a virus I don’t have. Or might have. Luckily though I just harbor a gross parasite from river water that unless you used my toilet and really used it you won’t get it so I think everyone is safe. For now.
I looked all around and everyone was just kind of walking around and looking at the covers of books. Why are we all in here? A man had a motocycle helmet and goggles on the whole time. They say we should wear goggles now and he clearly read that story on twitter maybe? A man went to pick up a magazine then stopped himself. I wanted to scream. Just pick the fucking thing up. Let’s all do it. Let’s all take the risk of life and death and touch books. But I don’t want to be followed or follow others so for now I won’t start a touch books following. I left. I’ll buy books online for now. I love my mailman and he knows how excited I get to get new books. I bet he would follow me on Twitter if I wanted to be followed. This is why I don’t need followers I shouldn’t be followed. I will make us all touch books.
I still don’t have coronavirus but woke full of drywall dust snot and things. It has me congested and confused but I know I don’t. I will have to cough all day somehow. Luckily no one is following me. I’m not someone to follow. I will get you lost and make you touch books .
Aspenleaf 