Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Dead Weight

If I put my fists to my mouth, and breathe through my nose, an amazing thing happens. The steam of my breath dances like an Aurora Borealis on my glasses - right before my eyes. It's remarkably comforting this morning, when inside I feel the dead weight of what I used to call anxiety.
Dead Weight.
Those two words are striking an emotional chord in me this morning. Anyone who knows me can probably figure out why. But that is compounded by the string of dreams I entertained last night while I slept. All my major fears were 'addressed', and by that I mean "acted out with terrible accuracy and lunacy." I was thrown out of the Playhouse for spying. A guy I know decided to kiss me (I stuffed him in a drawer in retaliation.) Another guy chased me to my car crying that I had led him on and now it was my duty to fulfill my unspoken promises. I would not, so he stabbed me with a pen. My husband bought a house without consulting me and it was a dump. Two dear friends of mine left their current relationships and chose to be a homosexual couple together. Three big dogs ate my keys. My mom told me I couldn't come into her house ever again. I asked my brother in law for help and he pushed me away, saying, "No."
This reported, I don't need anyone who made appearence in my dream to post an console me. I know none of this would actually happen. Except maybe the three big dogs eating my keys.
But I realized some things, trying to scrape all this negative energy off myself this morning:
*I have come leaps and bounds from where I was emotionally just three months ago.
*I still carry more than my healthy emotional share of dead weight.
*Triggers and buttons weigh me down.
*I respond so deeply to the emotion of a conversation, that the words don't even register in my memory three minutes later. What's the deal with that?

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3 comments:

Fedaykin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Fedaykin said...

Yin, meet Yang. I wish so much that a conversation could elicit an emotional response out of me. I feel like a bad person for always talking about my problems and never really allowing empathy to work in me for others. So you have a stomach ache, what do you want me to do about it?

May 4, 2007 1:27:00 PM MST

TheaterGeek said...

Well, Yang, nice to meet you. Although i only register the emotion of the words you used to respond to me, not the words themselves so . . . there. I don't know that NOT feeling conversations is a bad thing. Sometimes it is certainly not a GOOD thing.