The Silent Scream (Today)
Nota bene: I’m going through my old writing from a while back when I felt differently than I do today. Here’s a piece from March 15, 2018, part of a series of daily writing practices I had entitled “Today.”
Today, I reminded myself to let go of old gripes. I’m in the throes of some heavy emotional exertions where my mother is concerned and I’m telling myself to get over it and let it go. It’s hard because I am so angry all the time.
Today, I walked around in what felt like an unconscious fog. It’s what it feels like everyday. I walk through my day on auto pilot, never fully in control of anything. I just walk around with my feelings and they come and go, come and go. Mostly it’s been a little sad lately. I feel depressed and unmotivated. I feel all pressurized to accomplish stuff. I kept thinking to myself about everything that’s going on: “Am I too isolated? Why don’t I like anyone? Is the world going to end soon? Should I worry about anything? Am I putting too much pressure on myself? I did just finish school and get a master’s degree. Is that not enough?”
I walked around all day in a daze, but today was better than yesterday. Yesterday, I went right back to bed. I’ve been sick lately, but it’s more than that. Today I wondered a lot about why I want to do anything, why I put all this pressure on myself. I thought I studied some myths carefully and learned that the heroic way is an unbalanced approach. So why am I still so pressurizing on myself? In a word: self-hatred. And my self-hatred is tied so closely to my feelings for my mom and dad. So, today, I kept reminding myself that I am not them, even though I am so close to them (genetically). My life is already so different from theirs. But it’s where parts of me and parts of my life are exactly like theirs that I feel trapped in a nightmarish, silent-scream scenario. Why can’t I accept the shitty-ness as part and parcel? Am I too good to have shitty-ness in my life? What on earth gave me that idea? ALL LIFE has shitty-ness in it, why should mine be any different?
Today I wrestled with my demons, I fed my dog — I even tried to smile. I used to smile all the time. I used to laugh more. Things are so heavy now and I don’t know if they’ll lighten up.
Today I went to an herb growing class, I started reading The Herbalist’s Way and I followed through on last night’s decision to stop doing my evening ritual that involves one non-alcoholic beer, chips and salsa, dinner, and bed — all while watching about 5 hours of TV and scanning news websites with a dumb look on my face. It’s nonalcoholic beer now, but for many (so many!) years it was real beer and tons of cigarettes and either no dinner or something very oily and drunk-food-y. Even though it feels more wholesome, this ritual is still a massive waste of my time and energy and I’ve ended it.
Today, I started writing my nightly recapitulate-my-day series. I (someone in my soul) created it and it fits perfectly because it takes the place of endless mindless hours of TV and moves me in the direction I want to move in: toward writing, reading, and creating; toward knowing and being free.
Despite the feelings of sadness (they come and go), today I took some concrete steps toward my herb gardening future and my writing future. I wondered to myself: “Am I trying to do too much all at once?” I’m starting a new MA/PhD program next month, I’m writing my first novel, and I’m starting my herb garden so I can slowly learn how to heal with herbs.
Today, I worried about money and livelihood but also saw glimmers of beauty and inspiration — why can’t I have a homestead farm? Sure I can! I can live off my land, teach and learn together with everyone who comes there. It’s the same old dream. But it’s a great one and I know it will happen.
Today, I rekindled the same old dream and wrestled with the same old demons. I screamed silently in a blackened nightmare but a part of me laughed it off.
In time, I will accept.
