Ed. Note: This is a continuation of sorts from the entry posted below. It would make more sense if you read that one first, but it’s not necessary. This can be read as a stand-alone.
I woke up today feeling like a completely different person than I was yesterday. The sky was a soft, light blue–the kind that you could almost wrap around a paper cone and call it cotton candy. The clouds were fluffy and white and looked like I could go bouncy bouncy on them. For once, I had slept decently–two three-and-a-quarter hour chunks, and I would have slept more if I didn’t have to get up to go to therapy. I felt tired as hell when I woke up, which is much better than batshitcrazy mind-numbingly exhausted to tears.
I give props to Kel and Gregory for helping me through an especially difficult day yesterday. Sometimes, a gentle kick in my nonexistent ass is exactly what I need to just make it through the worst of time. Well, the nudge accompanied by a healthy dose of compassion and love, and my sleeves (to wipe my eyes). They made me list ten things I loved about myself (ok, coaxed and cajoled) and just basically listened to me vent. Neither of them will let me get away with shit, which is also needed because I am very good at talking shit to myself and believing it.
Here are the ten things I listed that I love (or really like) about myself. I was able to come up with the first two rather easily, but the others were more difficult.
- My mad writing skillz.
- My intelligence.
- My hair.
- My tats.
- My eyes.
- My sexual prowess (in bed!).
- My compassion, especially for underdogs.
- My dark and twisted sense of humor.
- My passionate nature which leads me to have many opinions.
- My smile.
I stumbled over this video, a cover of What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone. I was looking for a song about how colors are popping, and this one fit. Plus, the message is similar to the one I’m trying to absorb today. Yesterday, when I was so depressed, everything was gray in my mind. Even though the outside weather was pretty similar to what we have today, all I could see was gray. Today, the sun is hot, white, and so sparkly shiny. The tree leaves are green, red, orange, yellow, and brown. I have the whole palette available to me today, and it’s amazing what a difference it makes.
Ok. Therapy. I was talking to my therapist about falling back into the depression yesterday and knowing that I had to choose between life and death. She said I did by turning off the car, but it went deeper than that. During my lost years, when the landscape was gray more often than not, I always told myself that if things got too bad, if things got too painful, if things got too intolerable, I could always kill myself. I put it in my back pocket, so to speak. It helped me exist to know that I had given myself permission to cease to exist at any moment.
That was then. This is now. See, back then, I was existing. I was holding on. I was enduring. I was surviving. 97.2% of my days were gray (and I picked that number because it’s my current temperature. Yes, I’m weird. So what?), so I didn’t really miss the color. How can you miss something you didn’t have in the first place.
Now, however, I have seen the colors. For the past six to eight months, I have seen the full panoramic view of brilliant, intense colors, and I am no longer content to settling for gray. I want scarlets and emeralds and indigos and midnight blues. I want tangerines and sepias and marigolds. I don’t want pastels because they are too pale, but I will take the bold and the deep.
My therapist made a comment about Eros vs. Thanatos. Eros is the desire to live fully and passionately. Thanatos is the death drive. The two are pretty much opposites of each other. Now that I have tasted Eros (minds out of the gutter, folks), Thanatos will no longer do. Worse yet, by keeping that option in my pocket (literal or figurative death), I cannot fully embrace Eros. What was a safety net for me before is now a hindrance. As long as I even pretend to think going back to numb or dying is an option, I will not step bravely forward into the unknown.
It has become a crutch. As seductive as the death membrane is, it is a very permanent solution. It’s not something I can try and then decide, “Oh, this really isn’t for me. I think I’ll go back to living.” Death is a one-way ticket (though there may be something on the other side), and there are no do-overs (sadly, I do not believe in reincarnation).
In addition, it’s wishful thinking to think I can go back to being frozen, which would be a death of sorts. I would have to lop off so many parts of myself to cram back into that lifeless corpse. I am not willing to do it.
So. I have to decide. I am a sensuous person who mightily enjoys the bodily pleasures of life. Food, performing on stage, dancing, and sex. I love the feeling the juices of a ripe plum dribbling down my chin or my nipples tightening because it’s twenty below zero and it makes me feel so alive. I love feeling like I’m going to throw up right before I step on stage, followed by the adrenalin high of performing that is unlike any other feeling. I love putting on a sexy little black dress and platform heels, and going to the clubs with my best girl so I can flaunt what I got to the latest hottest song. I love the sensations of warm flesh pressed against mine, every pore of my body open and singing. And, god help me, I love the pure ecstasy of cumming.
See, it’s not just about living. It’s not even about surviving. It’s about thriving; it’s about living life in a rich, luxurious, sumptuous, sybaritic way that stimulates and thrills all of my senses. I am a lusty, passionate, hedonistic woman who has been stifling herself for far too long.
Eros or Thanatos. Life or death. There is no compromise here.