a Thursday night. been listening to housemates singing over guitars and candles. the sweetness of human creation. the persistent sensation that there is a piece of my magic i can't access, and that it is blocked by this psych drug I take. missing missing missing it...

For a few years now I've heard people say that depression is depressing your feelings, or that it is anger turned inward. I did not get this. But now I'm starting to get it...

I want to write about some things that have been culminating for me this last week. I celebrated a year and a half sober yesterday, sitting by the river with the woman who's been helping me through the steps, wind in our hair, life stories on our tongues, sun on our backs. Deep summer and things are changing in my life.

**warning - -this post might be really triggering for some people. read with care.**

Hmmm. Crawling into bed after midnight.

i gotta say that the dark blurry places have a certain kind of seduction, a certain sick familiarity which calls out with this promise of less effort, less friction, a lure to go backwards into the cocoon... it's hard to resist. Some part of me has wanted to believe in that cocoon all my life. But that's not the part i want to feed. That's not the seed I want to water. I get it. And I don't. And then I get it. And then I don't.

musings on acceptance, resistance, turbulence, serenity, courage, and prajna...