A person wants to stand in a happy place,
But that has not been an achievable place for me these past confusing weeks.
And why is it that we aim for happiness when in reality to be in a happy place all the time would actually get old fairly quick. Yet when I’m not experiencing happiness, I go straight into narratives of how there’s something wrong with me, or I need to fix how I’m feeling.
That’s what got me to such a dark place I think. I got scared that the dark and terror was returning. The feelings of hollowness, of floating outside my body, of despair at a gravity I’ve never experienced before. Of anxiety at a level I couldn’t handle. Tightening in my chest. Stomach almost hot to the touch from burning internally.
I fell in love with poetry when I discovered the lines that spoke truth about the darkness I was experiencing. That shed light to the truths of the corners of pain we experience. But I can’t bring myself to share the pain and truth in stanzas yet. How can I communicate something If I can’t comprehend it?
And maybe that’s it. That the messy middle is where I’m at right now. I haven’t figured out the lesson in this yet, but I am still carving pen to paper in an attempt to find out. In an attempt to stand in a happy place. A happy place that holds all of it, all of the feelings, without fear of losing it. Without fear of figuring it out.
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