Thursday, April 7, 2011
(One of those blog post written while not ACTUALLY high, but late enough at night that you might as well be.)
Isn't it weird to be inside your own head? I spend too much time wondering if everyone else really DOES think and feel the same things I do...I'm not sure I can make you understand what I mean here, exactly...not just the whole are-we-are-all-the same? thing, but deeper than that, what does it feel like to be stuck in YOUR head? I'm wondering if this question is along the same lines as trying to describe the color red to someone who's born blind, there's just no way to make them understand. Since I'm the only one in here, it feels to me like I'M the center of the universe. The world revolves around me, from where I stand. But you must feel that way too, don't you? See, I'm in here, looking out of MY eyes, feeling the sun on MY skin, smelling mud with MY nose...it's a little me-orientated. Sometimes it's lonely and scary, not knowing if I'm going it alone, not knowing if it's the same for you, no matter how similar we humans are supposed to be. Are we all in the same boat? If we ARE in different boats, I wish they were the glass-bottomed kind, so we we could get a glimpse in.
They say dogs always jump up to try to lick a person's face because they sense that's the most important part, the part that matters, your head houses YOU, all your senses originate there, the rest of your body just supports your brain, kinda like a tree holding a tree house. Does this make any sense? I'm in total agreement with the dogs, which maybe means I'm not in touch with my body enough, and that I'm too isolated, up in my own head. It's just crazy, because there's no way anybody else can come in here with me, and I adore company. Occasionally people I love get close, almost as if I can hear knocking outside the tree house, but the trap door doesn't open. Kindred spirits can play on the tire swing, but this tower room holds me, and only me. (Sorry, I'm going nuts with the bad similes today.) Is this normal? Do you feel completely alone in your thoughts and feelings? Do you think most people do?
The only time I really mind feeling like a warped version of Rapunzel is when I'm afraid of something. You know, when that wave of cold-heat washes over you, that heart pounding, chilly, sweat of terror. When words others say don't even pierce your fear. Hearing someone tell you "everything will be fine" simply doesn't cut the mustard, comforting words bounce off your ears, locked out, because you are ALONE. The only one scared, or sad, or whatever. The only one in your head to face whatever demon you're facing. Being alone is overwhelming then. Hello panic attack.
(There's nothing up with me, by the way, even though I sound looney tunes at the moment. Rap on [tree house] wood. Loving this glorious day, loving my life, happy, content, busy, all well. I need no psychiatric evaluation. Just one of those things I was thinking about. And thinking = typing, for me.)
Anyway, it's strange that I'm writing this, because I'm a pretty laid back person these days. I've convinced myself that I'm just along for the ride, and what ever happens, was supposed to happen. Made my peace with the fates. Though you can't control the situation, YOU are in charge of how a situation effects you. Mostly, that's what I believe, and how I live. But it's still hard to over-ride the yucky stuff life has to offer. And hard to over-ride pre-programmed-before-birth tendencies to hang out in my tree house and worry. Paranoia runs deep. Starts in my roots and travels up every branch.
Posted by Emily at 11:12 AM