I was at dinner with the friends of my friend and this guy says to me “so what do you do?” I reply “I’m a receptionist” and he says to me “I hear you’re a writer”.
I didn’t say it at the time but what I wanted to say was, yeah I used to be. I read a piece of advice from a prominent author. He said, I write as if I’m writing to one person. I think that’s why I love letterform. You know before I used to write my fiction stuff I would start by penning a letter to someone. It keeps me grounded in my own voice. Pro tip. Also- to be a writer, you need to write. Duh!
Shit, is getting way more personal on here. I think it’s the benzos that I have recently started taking secretly and behind everyone’s back. I’m ok. I am not out of control. I am taking the edge off in the only way I know how. It disappoints me but if I don’t take a break from myself I will tear into pieces. It’s pretty fucking shit knowing yourself so well.
So here goes- I am going to write like I’m writing to one person. Even as I move forward I still miss you and want to write letters to you and listen to the rain in bed and talk about real shit. But I got this now. Whether you are a part of it or not, I got this.
There are so many pieces in my head about what I want to say, but I put them off. I distract myself with life, I worry about things that aren’t real. I constantly doubt my reality and that is a frightening experience. There are people and things I want so desperately deep down in my soul that I’m afraid to even ‘want’ because in my head I honestly think that anything I’ve ever wanted I will never get. And please don’t talk to me about positive manifestation. I know that not wanting things because I know if I want them I wont get them is some weird ass paranoia that makes no sense. It’s like when I cant find something in my house, I purposefully stop looking. Or I will pretend to look for something else and then like magic the original thing I’m searching for is right in front of my eyes.
You find your happiness in the world, and I think that statement is true. I find happiness and gratitude in what I have but it is undeniable for me to say that I am empty. Not dissatisfied. Empty. I read ‘Gone with the Wind’ recently and there is a character Scarlett. She’s so determined and focused on what she wants that when she decides it she will relentlessly pursue. That’s how I am, it’s also in my nature. Scary thing that causes this inertia is that when you have this inherent drive and strength but no direction it will consume you. It turns inward; it begins this constant pattern of screaming at myself ‘what the fuck do you want?’.
It’s like potential. I’ve been told that if you are not using your potential then it declines. Nice theory huh? Like potential is comparable to our physical body and not exercising it causes muscular atrophy. Every day I practice patience and try to tell myself I am exactly where I need to be right now because I have complete faith in the process of the universe. But I can’t live in fear of wasted potential. It’s too defeating.
If you were around to listen, I would talk to you about truth. I ran into a very old friend of mine, someone I’ve known since I was a kid. He doesn’t live in Melbourne anymore but I’m sitting under the bridge at the train station pouring out my heart to him because I just know, I know that he is sincere and honest and open and I know he has been sent to me to tell me this. Yes, cause the universe revolves around me. Leave me alone.
He told me, and this is hard without context guyZ so I apologise for my half-truths. Anyway so he says to me “SJ, you spoke your truth. Whatever is in your head, whatever assumptions you make, whatever you wanted that was not X’s truth. And the thing is, his truth has become your truth. Whether you like it or not’.
That is some poignant scary shit. Your truth has the ability to shape the truth of others. It is such a responsibility to bear. And it is my ego that tells me that I know best. That MY truth is the right truth for both of us. But it’s not. Evidence says otherwise. If you trusted my truth this wouldn’t be it. So here we are, standing still, not believing in the truth of the other person. With me telling myself ‘it is what it is’ which is always true. Unfortunately.
I want you to know that I am healing. And the situation was brutal because it exposed my deepest wounds. But if I can just keep facing my truths as I know them then this emptiness will begin to fill. I hope you’re well.