Dispersed

I do stream of consciousness writing just about every weekday morning. I stumbled upon this entry from about a year ago. It’s mildly edited. And, I decided to share it to see if anyone else ever felt similarly.

Friday, August 9, 2019

Two days ago…I curled up in the bed…it was the afternoon…Kyra and I had a fight…Not sure why, but I sort of lost it…I kept saying that it had been a long summer with Dillon…he and I…darkness filled me…made my limbs heavy…so heavy that I slept…I kept thinking about how they felt against the mattress…I could feel the indentations in the mattress…the sides of the mattress rising further and further up along the sides of my legs and arms….I was going deeper and deeper…darker and darker…I slept and slept…my body had been wanting this for a long time…it has been a long summer…I have accomplished a lot…I have pushed my body with gardening…making so many new beds…they took so much physical exertion to create…I cut back the hedges…dug up plants, dug holes….I was building obstacles like the Atlas stone…I was pushing my self with my physical fitness tests…I was stretching my creativity with all of the writing and the creation of new classes and more and more….but I felt like I was falling apart…felt like I was dying slowly…I am dying slowly…I could feel and hear my body say take a break…but I kept going…I’ve been doing this all summer….no stopping…just going on from this thing to the next thing…but I also started hearing voices…like the voices I had heard when I was kid…this mumbling…whispering…no words can be made out…I think it is one person…but I am not sure…it may be more…maybe people having a conversation…I was walking around in the yard visiting my plants like I do each morning…the music coming from the University of Richmond stadium…well it fucked up my head…the beat of the music…the rapping…I felt like I was going crazy…at night I was not sure if I was in the right dimension…wasn’t sure if there are multiple versions of me…I had this sense that I moving back and forth between them…I was looking at Dillon…aware of him but felt like I was seeing him through some side kind of film…like the film of plastic that covers the screen of a new electronic…at night…I felt myself going deeper and deeper into the darkness…something was calling me, pulling me…wanting me to be there with it…part of me wanted to go there, be there…curious maybe….what would happen if I did go there…a part of me felt like this world that I am experiencing is a falsehood, not real…does not matter…if that was the case, if it was true, how would I really know…I even told Kyra to keep an eye on me…I have not heard those voices in so long…am I schizophrenic…is this what it feels like to go crazy…the other part of me knew that I had more control…if I could choose to go down…I could choose to come back…I spent all day Wednesday in bed…started to come back again late Wednesday night…fell back in on Thursday morning…on the drive to OBX…I took over driving at the Wawa…I still felt a bit like I was out of body even as I was driving….like I was living it but also at the same outside of myself…examining myself…watching myself…looking at myself, looking at those around me, looking at my surroundings…I would pet the dogs to test…to see in a sense if they were real…touch Dillon’s hair as I walked by to make sure that he was real…last night I could still feel myself flirting with the darkness…it felt so easy to let it overtake me…I am better today…right now as I write this…I feel agency in my body and context…its makes me appreciate…gives me a sense of how tenuous my grip on reality is…or it may be that my grip is fanciful…how would I know…how would I know how to get back…how would anyone be able to help me…Right now, I’m choosing this to be real…part of me is still seeing beyond everything around me…not trying to say that I have a gift at all or I have something unique or that I am special…but see those around me…all of us…all beings…I feel a closeness…proximity to them that I have not felt before…like their physical manifestations and mine are dispersed and intermingling…the other thing is this conscious choice to be here…do the work here…whatever that work is…being here for Dillon…I could choose oblivion or what I understood as oblivion or I could choose this…

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Thanks. – shawn