I feel like Iām taking one step forward and two steps back.
Driving me insane!
Well, more insane than I already am, but you get my drift. *twitch* ;D
Someone took us to the movies this past week and I really liked the movie. Though it was dark and hopeless at times, the largest overtone and theme of the movie was hope. Basically, the perfect movie for me.
I left the movie and for the first time in a very long time (*ahem* years), I had
*that*
feeling.
The one Iām sure all creators know in some way or another.
Itās hard to describe, but Iāll give it a try.
Itās a good, excited, creativeness.
I feel alive. Vitally burning, arms flung wide, begging the world to hear me, to run through me, to guide me, to open me up and let me see again. Not just any world but that world, the one running like a stream through my head and heart, folded inside the contours of my soul. Where the strange and the broken but strong reside. All that I create. The world where I create, come up with ideas, scenarios.
And for one amazing moment, I can fly, I can soar, arms flung wide open to something better than me. Better than pain and all thatās wrong with me.
Where everything is perfect. Where Iām the child who escapes, the writer, the inspired creator who is both realistic and an idealist with her head in the clouds. The Unashamed Creator.
*That* feeling is where I can breathe. Iām passion blazing, where nothing can break me, inspired, confident. Enough. Where I am enough.
And Iām more than enough. Iām me. I can change the world, I can lift the broken and rid the streets of disgust and outrage of the wrongly powerful.
Everything was right as rain. Home.
I was home.

And then, I clamped down on it.
Iād reached the end of my chains and my conditioned behaviors yanked me back into ārealityā.
SHUT UP, DAPHNE! Stop acting like a childish, loser. Get real. Grow up. Be in control of your emotions, feelings, thoughts, wants. None of this wishy – washy, head in the clouds, fantasizing. How stupid that you pretend like a toddler fantasizing in your head. How pathetic. Stand up, be rigid, in control. Be useful.
And the feeling – *that* feeling ā it was gone.
I realized something right that moment.
I realized something that night.
It saddened me. Now I donāt feel anything in particular about it. But youāll understand why in a moment.
ONE
I realized what Iām really doing by āclamping downā on my āuseless emotionsā.
Iām telling myself to stop feeling.
The part of me, which is in control, says āshut up, be real, stop dreaming like a childā.
Itās a smoke screen.
Be mean enough and I wonāt poke at it, right?
In reality (ironic, right?), Iām telling myself to stop feeling anything. Except ā definitely keep feeling shame and wrong for feeling.
When I clamped down on that feeling, I shoved all emotion away. If I look close enough, I can see just how numb I am to everything but pain and self-hate.
TWO
When I came home from that movie, something happened- and I have no idea what or how- that allowed me to get past my own walls, find a weak link in my armor, and get through to the life deep inside that Iāve forsaken to solitude and silence.
I found it. I felt alive. I felt real.
But then doubt niggled in.
And when I clamped down on it, a part of me deep down wanted to sob, cry out.
Iād ripped the fire inside out and flung it nowhere in particular. So long as I couldnāt feel its warmth.
I left myself hollow, empty. In pain. Numb.

FORWARD
I feel Blank.
No wonder I havenāt written a word, allowed myself to listen to music, or done anything mildly creative in over a month now.
Iām so numb I donāt even see it.
Even now, writing about it. It was only yesterday and yet I canāt remember what it felt like. Iām simply typing what I wrote in my journal yesterday. Eight hours after it happened I couldnāt even remember.
How did it happen? Howād it get through? Why?
Iād been particularly vulnerable yesterday, gummy, and easily harmed (enough to make me carry an ax and glare at everyone who came within three feet of me). So was it the vulnerability? Not having that armor up and in perfect condition?
Or was it the combination of darkness and hope in the movie?
Or both?
I donāt know.
But I consider yesterday a win. Not only did it somehow get through, but I recognized it for what it was, realized Iāve been (and continue to) smother any and all inspiration, and identified my need to STOP.
Not that itās gotten me anywhere. But I have to realize Iām NOT going anywhere before I can START going somewhere. ā¦ā¦. Makes so much sense. 0.o
So, two steps forward and only one back.
Yay me!
________________________________
As a side note, Iām really not liking this being honest thing. It sucks, being vulnerable. Donāt like it. One bit.
So be nice to me.
Donāt blow rainbows up my skirt or throw bunnies at me, but donāt try to bash my head into the wall either.
Iāll stab you. Repeatedly.
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Any creative types know what on earth I’m going on about? What does “that feeling” feel like to you?
Anybody else feel stuck wobbling on the steps?
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