write/ older entries/ / miss miranda/ burningtheletters.net

2003-02-15 - 7:38 p.m. this is putting words to something i don't fully understand, something that comes over me without warning, something that can take my life hostage and force me to buy it back, piece by piece and bit by bit, with the currency of my heart and my sanity. it's this: i wake up one morning and i suddenly smell death. it's all around me, on my clothes, in my hair, in the air. i can't see it or touch it or point it out to you if you ask. but i know with absolute certainty that it's there. i know its stain is on my hands, and that whatever i touch will be changed for the worse by it. the diseases i could have overwhelm me: i am always checking my body for lumps, always imagining that i have a curse, a mark. it's all so interrelated i can't even begin to explain... my mental health shapes my physical health and vice versa. i know that my brain is tired, sore- full of words frantically stuffed inside, attempts at success, test anxiety... and i know my mind is held together quite tenously, that i am up and down, bipolar's the word, that i need to find some sort of emotional stability to work from, that i need it like i need air, that i'm choking here... (and let's not even begin to talk about my heart...) so i look at myself and know i'm diseased (interpreted however i want it to be at that moment) and i feel that i mustn't go outside, mustn't face this world of chaos. i will only make it worse. i will only bring pain. i am painbringer... so i retreat inside, hide inside the shady depths of my mind and my home. pretend that i don't want to check my body for signs of disease and deterioration every five minutes. pretend i'm ok with change and chaos. (because if i don't have to face it, it's not real, right?) right? this is what sneaks up on me, slowly but surely, my old friend, each time change is imminent. a big change. (because i can't control the world, no matter how hard i try. so it feels like death. it feels like anything that will change and bring me along with it is like death, because i can't control it.) and although i know control to be overrrated, i still desire it, desire it in new and deep ways. (my body is public, the personal is political, i create and act out all my desires and fears right here, right now, all present and unavoidable...) this is all so true, so true it bleeds. ( 0 tell me?)