intrusive thoughts in five parts/
By Sav Schlauderaff
This week I am not sure what to write. What I mean when I wish you could feel my pain. Can you be submerged in someone else. I feel like I’m constantly thinking so many things at once, constantly experiencing so many parts and times of myself at once. My brain is full of half-written memos to myself--did I write that?
I guess this is a timespace to try vulnerability or to try and sit with myself to feel my feelings so they can feel heard. Intrusive thoughtfeelings in five parts.
Jan 24, 2018.
Between feelings of wanting to do ALLTHETHINGS and cry on my couch until I sleep///
I have too many feelings//I feel numb and encapsulated by brainfog
I'm trying to not be self destructive
I'm trying to remember to eat/to sleep/to not self harm/to not excessively drink
It's too much
I feel like I'm in slow motion, but my hands are shaking
All these deadlines.
Oct 13, 2018.
And again, I have so much to do I feel submerged. I feel... agitated.
But this is when we write the best right? In isolation.
Repeating to myself that I just need to make it through these next few weeks and then
I’m always brought back to January to March to July to August to October. The months that are hard for me. Which months are the good ones then?
A free PTSD vacation.
I am trying to be more open and honest with people. But my sharing just ends with me needing to do more labor. To answer more texts, more messages. I’m just so exhausted. My mind is full/
what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need wh-at do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need just let me know !! what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need checking in you don’t seem ok what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need time what do you need what do you need what do you nee-d what do you need you know you can talk to me anytime what do you need what do you need how are you feeling ? what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need overwhelmed what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need how can I help? what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need are you still not feeling good ? ? what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need what do you need //
\\I don’t know yet.
I guess I don’t know what is preferable
Do you remember the first time you cried in public?
Is this me being vulnerable or is it just me avoiding talking to people about all of this in person?
Why is it easier to write a letter than speak my thoughtfeelings out loud?
Is there something to be said about speaking something into being? If I keep everything close to me is it really happening?
But how much of this is about me being scared and how much I hate confrontation.
And not even confrontation, how much I hate being honest in person.
When did you become afraid of the unpredictable?
I no longer feel shame in crying, rather it has manifested in self consciousness and fear of failure. I guess I am not “unique” in this regard.
But rather I am trying to recover my ability to be confident in my work and my ability to be proud of myself. To recover me running downstairs to make my parents read my poetry, the number of notebooks I used to fill. Or me writing plays for all my siblings and the neighbors to perform. Me having fun acting and singing and dancing. I am tired of limiting and doubting myself. Of being too afraid and controlled.
Why did you stop dancing?
My body, electric.
My hand is frozen in mid air. Fingers gnarled together.
My mind is repeating: grab the coffee mug, grab the coffee mug, grab the coffee mug. Like a slow claw machine it extends. My hand grasps it and my joints faintly crack. My wrist wobbles, unsure of the task at hand. Sipping and I slowly place the mug back down. [repeat]
My face is on fire.
It feels like the deep shock of an electric fence. A memory from a decade ago, my sister telling me that if I touch it with a grass blade it won’t shock me. Memory now constantly carried with me pulsating out from the center of my face.
Feels like tiny little pinches.
My vision spectacular, seeing snow even in the desert.
Incorrectly processed signals. What’s real and what’s fake.
Yes, I am still sick.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful if I could project my pain, would it look like netting, like sound waves, or a pulsating light? It’s frustrating how words to describe and account for our pain always fall short somehow. Can you understand what it feels like to inhabit a body that is constantly aching, throbbing, pulsating, vibrating, twitching, shaking. How much contained energy is trying to be released? How this exhausts me. Do you understand what I mean when I say I’m tired. Do you feel the weight of it?
Reasons to not die:
How did you fill in your list?
Will you misgender me at my funeral.