I don’t even know what to call this post. That’s where my head is right now. I had a wonderful day at Westercon, met some amazing people, talked to other amazing people I already knew, and I made it through the longest convention day I’ve had thus far. I did it. Yet I don’t feel like I’ve made accomplishments. I don’t feel good.
I suspect I’m triggered over something and that hasn’t happened in a long time. It might be that I met with people about sharing my life story in front of a large audience, or the fact that the moment I get back from con, I need to look for work asap. I don’t really know what’s causing this feeling, but I’m far more terrified right now that I’ve been in many years.
But it’s a different fear. I’m not entirely sure what this feeling is.
Maybe I’m not even triggered. I surely know I was a chatty one on the panels I spoke on today. Not fearful in that moment at all. Just in my element.
Yet this odd feeling is consuming me. It’s making me feel like I’m in two places at once. One is the happy, fun convention. The other is a place of darkness and death. The latter holds no hope.
As I posted on Facebook, I got a lot of bad news last week. It came one after another and I caught myself drifting back into magical thinking. I wore someone’s shirt they gave me and that person hates me, therefore, I’m bringing bad things… I’m being punished because I’m living my truth and that’s not allowed. And what is it really?
That’s it. Just life. There’s no magical being in the sky punishing me for my kinky and poly ways. No one punishing me for telling my story. No one casting dark spells on me through clothing… It’s just life happening and some particularly shitty life things happening all in a row.
I thought I was going to die on my drive to Portland the other day. I was so afraid that I shook most of the way here, and the only thing that kept me calm was a lovely girl chatting with me on the drive. Thankfully, I made it safely and got rid of that feeling. Even when I did turn down the wrong way in a no driving lest the light rails run you over road, I didn’t die. I didn’t crash. I just got the fuck out of the way.
So why is all this stuff from the week draining me? Why is it affecting me so much?
I feel like I’ve entered survival mode. And that’s a place I should be comfortable with since I’ve lived there most of my life. But I’m not comfortable here anymore. Yet it’s necessary in this moment to be here. It’s vital I am, or I’ll not act soon enough.
But this place sucks. I don’t like it. I don’t like this feeling that I have and can’t get rid of.
I’m so thankful to be surrounded by wonderful, loving people this weekend. Because these amazing people are keeping my head above water. But only barely.
This feeling is toxic. I can’t believe I was ever comfortable with it. I want it gone. I want my peace back.
*image by H Berends on freeimages.com*