I wonder what it would be like to have fear … pure panicked, wild fear due to instinct … with no ability to reason or use logic or truth … just the fear with no hope. What a horrifying thing.

There is … or should I say was a fox family living in the woods behind our house. One by one over the past month or two, I would see their bodies in the first stages of decomposition along the highway that runs in front of my house. 4 total. Prior to the fatalities, the family would bounce around the backyard, hunting moles and tackling each other. They were almost cat like in a lot of ways. So fun to watch. Oblivious to danger and risk … there is one fox cub left. The past 3 hours blood curdling screams have been coming from the woods … my guess is a cub. Alone, driven by fear. Too young to be alone.

It is causing me discomfort to think about it. I hate the thought of being left alone. Like truly alone. It is still a fear I struggle with … creeps up in unexpected ways. It is triggering and I want to relieve the stress. The anxiety is bubbling and I want to erupt in tears. But again, it doesn’t happen when I need it too. At least, I can attempt to process through writing here …

I’m glad I’m human and am capable of devising more than one way to process emotions. To know absolutely nothing but fear and instinct … what a cruel way to live …

Struggling with emotions too extreme vs none at all when I need them.

So much in my head but can’t put into words so I’ve been silent.

Decaying into nothing.

It is certainly accurate that I know how to push people away. I wish I haven’t mastered this skill. I’m glad Gandolph does not oblige or follow rules of this nature.

I told a friend tonight that I feel like I’m dead already and people just keep poking my body. Pretty soon they’re gonna stop poking …

It’s true. Why bother wasting energy on someone that isn’t receptive?

I need brain surgery …


writhing, grinding, rocking. whites of eyes bleeding tainted, acidic memories burning. pent up crazy. dizzy falling through narnia. colors of paranoia, flipped upside down. backward eyes see inside. brain matter, cold, sickly gray. fall fall fall away, reach for the grave. stripped bare, shame flaming, roaring. breaking silently, breathing intently. whispering upon deaf ears.

How did I get from desperately trying to will myself to cry … from not wanting to feel anything at all?

What switched? 

Searching. Wondering. Intrigued by a poem of sorts I wrote 15 years ago …

Unattainable Desire

I decorate my body

With blood-stained lines

They creep in smoothly

From a jagged blade

Windows to my heart

Burned and black

My heart’s desire

Is to feel emotion

Fucking numbness is a curse from the depths of Hell!

What is the use in trying?

Especially when I know . . .

I know for a fact

I will never become better

I will never change

And I will always . . .

Always be this pathetic

Numbness is a curse from Hell … ? How is feeling that much better? I guess I’m on the road of figuring it out …

Ice numbs the ache.

There are maybe two people in this world that I will allow to hug me when I’m having a terrible, no good, very bad day … week … month. These two people are able to hug me and I for that moment, don’t feel like I wanna punch someone in the face. These two people hug me and I actually genuinely enjoy the hug. (Well most of the time.) I would run from any hugs before or use my body as a shield. Coming at me from behind or from the side was out of the question. It still is with some people.

Anyone can pretty much gently coerce me into a hug now, but I seldom enjoy it. I didn’t really realize that until today during a lunch conversation … a lunch which I initiated with one of the two.

The last couple weeks have been a struggle to not feel anything, whether it be good or bad. Perhaps, I tell myself feeling the good is just as bad as … the bad. It’s more likely that I just don’t want to feel the bad. But since I know that’s not realistic, I tell myself … feeling nothing at all is way more appealing. Good can’t exist without bad. There is no balance. So I want to feel nothing. It’s not that I want to hold it all in … cause the aftermath in my experience is horribly unhealthy and unpleasant. But just that I want nothing … robotic. Numb. Non-existant. Cut out the little piece of my brain that gives me the feels. So it wouldn’t even be a struggle … I wouldn’t know any different … or remember. The struggle to not feel has resulted in edgy, raw, frustrated. Almost anger, but not quite. I’ve never allowed myself to be really angry. There are times that I have envied the person that could throw their fist through a wall though.

It’s just where I’m at. I’m sure I’ll get over it. But right now my social tolerance is low. I want the interaction but in very small doses. I’ve ignored texts. I’ve ran out of situations that threatened my peace. I’ve put people off and changed plans and turned my phone off. Sometimes, I just need space to be … but I’m not certain how much longer I need …

I’m glad I at least have those two people that make me forget the ugly I feel inside of me.