Holy fuck it’s been a while. My counsellor told me she recommends I start blogging again, or if I don’t feel inclined to write in my blog to write somewhere else somewhere I feel free to do so. She noted that it is something she thinks is really missing from my life. My life is so transient. Things come and go quite frequently. But I agree with her. I really do benefit a lot from being able to write and writing is something that has fallen to the wayside lately, in lieu of other matters and activities taking up residence in my cluttered head.
Cluttered.
That is truly something that I have become in the last month that I can say was not there immediately prior to that. At least that is what I recall. And my counsellor backs me on that.
I’m smoking. Yes, I am smoking. It is gross blah blah blah. I know just as you know and I know all the shitty things about it better than you, believe it or not. I was at my mom’s house the other day and i told her about it, that “I have been having a rough go at smoking lately.” I was really happy to be able to tell her that. For most of my life I told her very little about what was really going on with me. My communication with her and the rest of my family was shrouded in avoidance, denial and silence. I was relieved when I told her because when I told her, I told her because it seemed like the ‘right’ thing to do. I know she loves me and cares more about me than any other person in this world. It seemed faithful for me to tell her the truth about how I am, especially considering the amount of anguish and mental strain this particular subject has had me in over the last 3 weeks. Her reply was surprisingly copacetic. She said, “Well, I know this is hard for you. It’s the hardest thing to quit. It’s everywhere. In the past you’ve done very well at quiting and staying off nicotine for long periods of time. You’ve kicked crystal methamphetamines for good, that takes amazing strength and perseverence. I know this is hard for you.” It made me smile what she said. It meant a lot to me. A large factor behind me hiding shit from her for so long was that I was scared of her condemnation and the laying on of guilt and emotional pressure that usually came after me telling her anything that made me vulnerable. It was a trust issue. I felt she was in a place to have power over me. TO make me feel like shit when all i wanted was to be able to tell her the truth and have her show that she loves me unconditionally. My girlfriend has a similar approach to the way my mom used to deal with this subject. She asks, pries as to if I’ve been smoking. I tell her the truth and I do not receive the compassionate response i need to shelter my insecurity and vulnerability in that moment of evident weakness. Lorea acts similarly regarding my smoking as my mom used to about my using. Guilt, shame and retraction are emotions that follow. I can rephrase this without putting the heavy on Lorea. My automatic REACTION to Lorea’s response are feelings that were the same in reaction to the way my mom used to act when she, say, found out I was doing acid every week at UVic. In turn…
I just lit my whole hand on fire trying to light my cigarette with my zippo. apparently lighter fluid had leaked all over my hand before i sturck the flint. that shocked my for a second.
I have a few other “issues” buzzing around in my head that I need to work out this weekend. Sunday I am going to do a little four step action around them.
Planning a vacation to Cuba in May. I’m really excited. Going alone and I’m happy about it. I really put it out of question for a long time because i thought i’d get lonely. Now I am really confident that a week or two alone is just what I need. Just to lie on a white sand beach and read and listen to the ocean. FLoat in the pool. Eat all inclusively. tour around a bit and take some photos. Swim in the ocean. I’m excited.
Hey, I’m cutting some stencils tonight. My iron is heating up and I’ll be on that as soon as I finish writing. 20 minutes to sanity is all it takes.
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