petals | soft delusions

this week threw me in for a loop and it was all heartachy. i have to let go of another one of my babies and it broke my heart all over again. i became less selfish and learned to let go of them, but goddamnit, the void is immense and i feel like i can’t breathe. and the feeling is worse when my babies die suddenly with no illness symptoms.

anyway, the week was rough. i also had my health check-up and i passed all the numbers but my cholestorl number went beyond optimum and came goddamn close to 220. i think that is ok for now considering the high levels of stress and anxiety i was going though or may be me not going to gym #sidelook. but will sure to get it retested in a couple of months to make sure i’m not slacking off with my health.

in the meantime, my doc keeps pushing me to get therapy because after a long time, i told her what happened to me. i find it easier to write as i remove myself from this and write as a third party. but i know she is right as i have seriously been thinking about getting married as well; after my husband’s death i didn’t think of marriage or even relationship as even before his passing, life kept knocking me down, and i kept getting up only to get knocked down. honestly i didn’t have any strength left to care for someone else and also tbh it wasn’t easy to keep going. and the doctor keep pushing me to see someone to get therapy for reasons, as i have successfully detached myself from anything which would cause me pain or anxiety which includes any commitments to either people or things or places.

so i decided i should write down my feelings so you and i can read it, so i can face them, acknowledge them, confront them and analyse them as clearly, currently i am not. it’s been about 6 years since my husband’s death and i still don’t know how to process my own feelings. i am trained scientist, so i clinically diagnosed myself, separated them out and precipitated them in a dark corner. i can write about them, from an observer’s perspective. i’m able to offer myself a mirrored pool of thought, but i can’t feel them. i swallowed all of my feelings and survive on them. there have been days, weeks, when i refused to eat,unable stomach food because of the large stone of emotion i carry in my stomach.

but as i am thinking of letting someone into my life, and wanting to commit to a marriage, i want nothing more than to know this person, aka me, again. i hate myself for carrying this anger at myself, guilt and sadness. i can see clearly the sunny place beyond the gloom and darkness and i wish to be there, free. but i know i have to face this darkness, and go through it again, and expel the stormy clouds but i don’t know how. sometimes, i wonder if it is justified. is it ? i want to walk through life gushing with love for humans. i hate myself for having this darkness in my heart. i have contemplated ending my life more than once. i want to be in control of my entire existence.

i think it is only fair for this man, whoever it may be, who wants to be my other half. and i have to let him come closer to me and let him to get to know me.

personally i think the hardest part about getting to know me isn’t just his insecurities, or fears, or hesitations. it’s mine. in effect he will be fighting a war in my head and my heart that’s derived from every person’s let down that’s comes before him. . so now here you are fitting no mold, you were never like anyone else, and you’re trying to break through a cast that seems to be miles deep while bearing your own cast of steel. it’s heavy and it’s hard but every once in a while you get this glimpse of what’s behind the wall and you know it’ll all be worth it. and you know that even if you’re not the one who takes the last piece of that wall down, you’ll have helped heal what’s behind it in hopes that someone more deserving than you gets to see what i’ve gone to the depths of hell protecting. i’m often lost in doubt my actual aspirations are too ambitious; yet my self-doubt even more determined, hence i stick myself in the same day after day, year after year instead of chasing a lighting that is a pledge of a fire that’ll consume me.

i am hoping that someone (even if slightly) pick up on the hints of my misery mirroring hamlet’s misery (in his soliloquy), smile as i do when you hear “perchance to dream” or pick your own strings of words, and doubt the cowardice he blames on conscience.

the funny thing about healing is that it comes from within our own, singular minds. we may think we need other people to save us, but i know now that’s all just smoke and mirrors. we believe what we feel to be true. but truth has no interest in making us feel whole. truth takes us and breaks us, fragments our hearts, destructs the careful realities we have constructed in our minds to make us happy. your thoughts can save you but your thoughts can also kill you. truth and belief are no friend of each other when we’re talking about peace (piece) of mind. believe what you can while you can, because here i’m again, lying in bed, and i haven’t felt safe in years when i am with humans.

we don’t need other people to make us feel whole, but we believe that we need other people to make us feel whole. and that’s the human difference.

here’s my kitty girl petals, absolutely gorgeous and grateful. animals are so grateful when you attend to them and ease their pain and sickness. i have been showered with affection, once their fever, pain, feeling uncomfortable has left them. it actually pains me physically when they are ill, as they can’t tell me how much of a pain they are in and where exactly it hurts. so i think whatever money i spent on them, is worth it as long as they are well.

i love this song ‘summer in the city’ – i think it’s cool and applies to me in every way especially now in my present condition. but recently i found myself in american boy’s office (he has been a pest since a couple of weeks on a little matter which, in my opinion, was no big deal). but there i was sitting in front of him, and for the first time since i have known him, i was not actually annoyed as he has this knack of driving me up the wall. i was thinking of this song all the time i was speaking with him, even though, i completely forgot the lyrics, i finally realized i actually associate american boy with summer or vice versa.

when i’m sitting so close to him i can feel his breath i wonder if he knows i’m going to replay this moment in my memories for the next few moons or for the sound of his laugh is a sunday afternoon. his sparkling, devilish eyes make me delirious the witty, back-and-forth banter exhilarates me the sultry smile we secretly share is enough to convince my exalted mind to give it all up for more of this bittersweet paradise of lust and laughs where it’s so hard to read his charming words and clever spurs how could i ever decipher what this energy between us is (i’m content in my ignorance so long this ends in a kiss) every fiber in my body tells me i’m not allowed to feel anything for him but don’t they know that telling me i can’t makes me want to even more so much so that it (you) (this) consumes my every waking thought as he, calm and charm, play me like sport but that’s just it even if i lose the final score the game was worth it. and more. but gosh, i love me orgasms on a regular basis & i can’t wait for him till he comes to his senses. lol,*wink*

so for the boy’s sake i’ve been rewatching poldark series as he didn’t & also as the final season is upon me, i would like to refresh my memory of the storyline – i say this because, this weekend was quite hot and humid, and boy and i, tho briefly ventured out for a game of tennis, soon we locked ourselves indoors (my asthma flared up again and i’m yet again on another prednisone course). protagonist ross and his wife demelza are constantly going through these problems (if you watch it you know) & i have a little summary as well to fill you in. anyway, getting back to the point, the boy took a shining to demelza, and a week or so ago, after a night of marathon sex, i opened my eyes, turned to the boy as he was lying next to me in effulgent bliss, and the first words out of his mouth were, eleanor tomlinson (demelza poldark) has nice red hair, may be you should try red hair. now, i’m not a very jealous person, but what with my feminist thinking and all, i would never change who i am even if i want to look dazzling. i wanted to slap him, but i believe in punishing people in a subtle ways, and so i started calling him ross (that’s not his name) and imitating demelza, i am currently going ‘yes ross’. ‘no ross’, ‘tis okay, ross’ and he is begging me to stop, but i think, i will continue for another couple of weeks.

on poldark: i know this is a historical fiction set in 1800s in cornwall but is anyone else just getting sick of how flat the characters in poldark are becoming ? every single episode, no matter what ‘lessons’ they have learnt in other seasons, they just behave and interact in exactly the same way like they did in the past.

like, morwenna is always this meek crying girl (when she was with drake she was sad bc it wasn’t ‘correct’ that she loves a boy of a low-birth, when she was married she was sad because, obviously the man was a brute and a monster and a sex addict, then she was widowed and she was still sad, then she was free and got married and was still sad. i’m blogging because of my ptsd but she can have some range of emotions other than just being on verge of tears for every scene,

demelza is always complaining, playing victim and losing faith in ross or herself (despite multiple times them having the final ‘we love each other revelation. seriously, she has almost left him…what, four times now ?), oh dear god, give it a fucking rest.

ross is always being rash and making stupid decisions & at a drop of hat runs to his family home trenwith or to elizabeth thus enfuriating george, not that this ass needs an excuse to get his feathers ruffled about ross.

george (antagonist) is just always being evil, (was there actually any point to the whole madness thing if he is just going straight back to full force evil george again ? and dear god, george ! why are you so jealous of ross ?

dwight is just this voice of reason, even when he makes such stupid impulsive decisions like joining the navy on a whim etc…. caroline doesn’t even have enough screen time to be repetitive in any way

like i feel we are just watching these cogs turn round and round and nothing ever really changes or develops. any serious issues like death or ptsd seem to be stuck and then just swept under the rug and kind of ignored. the characters never learn. they never change. may be humans never change no matter what age or how technologically we all develop. and don’t get me started on the whole tone of this season and how every ‘good character’ naturally has the modern view of opposing slavery completely and not being racist at all, even though this is the 1800′s… ugh.

i watched the second game of patriots (football season is upon us again lads) against titans because i had to record the game and surely when i was checking the score in between the poldark they were at 8 to titans 17 and this morning when i checked the score fully expecting them to have lost but, goddamn, they won ! my boys won and yes i know it’s just preseason but hotdamn !

well, i am off to bed and i love being asleep and i love being in bed but i hate going to bed because it requires so many small rituals and bedtime activities i wish i could just automatically transport myself into bed the moment i get sleepy already with my teeth brushed, in my pajamas, phone set down to charge, alarm set, entire body marinating in an artisanal mix of 24 herbs and spices and sealed in a sous vide bag, etc

bonne nuit !