“they don’t want to understand, they tell you love is a lie
There’s a man on the corner, screaming at the street
“Don’t let it get you..”
who are these people
every one of them green
all acting like they’re friend of mine
they haven’t got a reason, man
they got no rhyme
I don’t want to stay here
this is wasting my time
she’s just another girl
he’s just another boy, and they’re
not my kind”
[Icehouse – Not My Kind]
Sorry to have been away longer than I should have been – the past days have been a bit of a blur, not that I need an excuse, I suppose.
My heart is still big, and the world still tugs at it. Sometimes that feels good, you know, like being connected to great things that are important and beautiful. Sometimes, it is painful and I’d rather go hide in the darkness of my closet, my hand clutched over my heart. These days, I find less call to do the latter, but the feeling does still steal over me.
I feel. Feeling is living for me; that was one of the hardest parts of what I go through, because the heights are SO lovely, so full of the need to dance and laugh and sing and run a hand through the sunlight… but the lows are dark and painful and filled with the need to sit in the shower and shake.
Grasp the love. Hold the light.
Monday was my visit with Dr. Naz to assess my experience with Cymbalta. Overall, things seem to be progressing well, and she kept me with the 30mg prescription – with the caveat that I may, at my discretion, increase to 60mg when I deem that I need to, on a day-by-day basis. This was after I told her that I still had the occasional day of stumbling, but overall I felt much improved. I’m thrilled that she trusts my understanding of myself, and she knows that I respect the drug too much to up my dose unless I am seriously in need.
I feel like there are still aspects of my life that I need to get a grip on, but I’m working hard to put that puzzle together as I feel able.
Rebuilding myself is going to take time.
I know this, I do.