“There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding, waiting for me to grasp it. It is the same tantalizing sensation when you almost remember a name, but don’t quite reach it.”
“The dissociative states became more frequent, and with them a lingering numbness, a sense of being only barely present in the world.”
It’s been a year and change since I did this one. It’s different, now. Just different. With so much compromising my previous views, aesthetics, likes & dislikes, passions, obsessions, false identity, suppressions, misconceptions, traumas, beliefs, cynicism, fears, fancies, insecurities and irrational self hatred, transitioning feels more grounded when I have living proof of a long term crisis in front of me. Paradigm shifts aren’t too noticeable as they are happening, only when I felt myself ecloding into a rather unfamilar context I was conscious of how far I had roamed. Time’s a wastin fades in the background and my anxiety petrifies me when there is so much to do, so much to be in control of, so much that I shouldn’t even brother burdening myself with. It’s a sense of aknowledging every ounce of extra baggage at the gate and having payed and arranged for its transportation, a sense of not having that discussion again because I have made my point before and I’ve already been humble enough to listen, a sense of talking to you later, because I’m going somewhere else. I roam. I resurface. I’m older, I feel the weight of time, I understand love differently, I love better and differently, I respect my body more and my inner voice is heard, I struggle still, I get sad still, I’m still going and showing up with more questions, I love and I found I am loved by the power that created me, I host hope. I’ve been hungry, I’ve been empty, I’ve been eating wisely.