SPRING

I have always found that the easiest way for me to put my feelings/emotions/mental state into words is by using extended metaphors. And various other similies and metaphors within those extended metaphors. That being said, here I go again. After I destroyed Jesse's marriage and very nearly destroyed my own, I felt like I shattered, and then detonated. There were so many things I thought I was so sure of before all of that happened, then after it did, I basically realized that I didn't know anything anymore. My sense of self got blown up into the stratosphere. The tiny pieces of myself hung in the night like stars for a while and then slowly began to drift back down to earth like snow. For a long time I dwelt in that winter and didn't feel like I was ever going to be OK with myself again, to be able to forgive myself or really to even know who I was anymore. Without that basic sense of self respect, I just lost myself entirely. I have been in some dark places. Been battling things that I think are for real depression and anxiety and panic attacks. I don't ever remever feeling so fragile. Breaking at a sigh. I have breakdowns almost every single day, and then just when I go a few days without one and I think im getting better, I have a few bad nights and it all goes to hell. I really do feel like I am and we are and it is all getting better though. Little by little. I feel like my winter has moved into spring. Though spring can have the most tumultuous weather of all. Especially here. One day feels warm, the next cold, then theres a freaking tornado. There's always a damn tornado that blows through and rips everything apart. Keenan and I have our fights, I get triggered, I break down, but each time we've learned to put things together again and build each other back up. In doing so, each time we learn something about ourselves and about each other that will hopefully help prevent the next one from being so bad. And maybe we're a little bit stronger. I'm still putting the pieces of myself back together. The more time goes on, the more and more pieces drift down from the heavens. I've been scraping together a mound of pieces of my former self. Some pieces have drifted off to far away places, some were gobbled up by fish or whales, and that's OK. I don't need every piece back. They weren't all good pieces. And the good pieces that were lost, well maybe they'll eventually drift down. Or maybe I can find some even better shinier pieces to fill the holes with. Or different pieces that might be almost as good and fit in almost the same way. What I have to try to remember is that things like mosaics and stained glass, though fragmented, are really beautiful too. Keenan told me that the more of myself I find, the more he'll get to have too. He's convinced me that he does still love me and want me and us and this life. Losing that belief is what got me started down the path to my own demise. Now I'm hoping that getting it back will allow me to become whole again. At least, pasted back together. I know I'll never be the same but I'm still really hoping the end product will at least be a me I like. I guess I'll know when I'm dead, because until then I suppose I'll always be a work in progress. As Schmendrick the magician says, "There are no happy endings, because nothing ends." I think some things do. But self improvement is not likely one.