I think it’s going to be mental health check in day. These past couple of days have been just a blur and in the “numb” category. I can also check off confused, nauseated, irritated, and lack of motivation. When I clicked to write an entry normally something flies up from the pages of my library but today just feels a little different. I feel unorganized and a little lost. There is something truly off inside but I haven’t been able to quite put my finger on it. I really don’t like when this happens. The creative switch gets turned off and I’m lost in the dark to try and find the damn thing. Tripping over my insecurities, faults, and flaws scattered about the concrete floors.
I put on some music that normally pumps me up to get me in the zone. Funny enough it’s always some band of Corey Taylor’s. I think we’ve come to that conclusion that besides pleasuring my eardrums he is performing my very own concert in my mind when I need to lose myself. It’s so funny what alters we create when we need it the most. He came forward at the end of Pop’s passing but he’s been with me since I was a teenager. Corey is what is known as a “fictive alter.” He helped me through some traumatic issues as a coping mechanism. His music brought me peace and let me dissociate to a state of contentment. So now I’ve got him chilling inside, an introject, and he does have a bit of an egotistical presence about him. Confidence, maybe, but he isn’t called The Great Big Mouth for nothing.
So here I am, sitting lazily back trying to gather myself and search myself to bring forth a hint of creativity. This being stuck thing isn’t my forte. I am loaded down with so much and when I can’t produce anything I wonder what is wrong with me. It goes silent inside and I feel lost. I’ve noticed before I go to sleep I have conversations with a group of headmates to kind of think about and work through what I’ve yet to process. I can see them all sitting up on stage in fold out metal chairs almost in a circle but curved to where they can see through my eyes. When I close them I can see them.
The other night I heard Sterling’s prayer and it was beautiful to witness and listen to. It was so genuine and heartfelt. I would’ve never thought to pray something like he did. He holds a lot of hate and anger through the trauma he has suffered to remember. I’ve never heard him proclaim to God that he needs help, he is struggling to hold in the anger and how it slips with no intent to hurt others. There is a lot of soul-searching going on and it makes me feel less alone on my search for a relationship with God. I fell asleep to his prayer as soon as it was over, I was out.
I had to sit and stop just then. I have no recollection of writing half of that out. It freaks me out when that happens. I literally just wrote that, how do I not remember doing that? This is what I’m talking about, when I’m in this kind of mood I become forgetful or dissociate or someone takes control while I’m spacing. It’s ridiculous. I almost feel like deleting this whole thing because it’s a load of crap. It makes no sense even when I continue to push through and make it become something. There are too many close to the front and it’s just becoming confusing again. Everything is cluttered and scattered and simple tasks aren’t making sense. Make it stop.
Hopefully everything straightens itself out soon, I’m not a fan of this me.