Glimmer

Is it possible, just possible, that the wrist-slitting, throat-slashing, lying-down-on-the-railway-tracks feelings are abating slightly?

I had to drive across country, 6am, for a workshop somewhere east. I set off in complete darkness and drove through misty fields of dew into the sunrise. I love England. I love the way we have proper seasons, the folds of the hills, the hedgerows, the little fields, the magpies. I felt still, and calm, and alone but not lonely.

I think I can make a connection - I do believe that's possible. Believing in it is probably half the secret, of course. I am trying to keep in mind the insight I reached a while ago, that I need to go out on a limb, go outside my control zone, if I want to get to a new place. I know what I want. And as someone said to me only yesterday, "if you don't ask, you don't get".

Asking......hmmmmmmmmm... would that be like, asking for help? Me, have needs? Surely not. Actually admitting that things were less than perfect? Less than fine, even? Oooh. That's an out-on-a-limb feeling already. Being myself, as opposed to being one of the pretend better-versions of myself, that couldn't work, could it? Doing things I really wanted to, saying things I really thought, confessing that I'm lonely, sad sometimes, frustrated (oh GOD), wouldn't that fall right into the dreaded category of Acting Like A Loser? I doubt it's a good look.

Maybe I could consider the possibility that I'm a complicated person, like everybody else. That I am all of those things, and also friendly, warm, loyal, committed, funny, clever, busy? Hell it's difficult. I'm no further on than when I was fourteen. But I'm smiling today.