I just realized that the only time ever write anything anywhere is when I am freaking out. How I JUST realized this is beyond me, but what is important is that I have made it my goal to write more often. Everytime I sit down for more then 5 minutes in front of the computer.
So, today was interesting. Uneventful, but interesting. I was manic, for sure. (It is a good thing when I can recognize these things, right?) I woke up feeling irritated, then moved on to angry. After anger was hopelessness. Then came the calm. The weird calm that clouds my view of everything. As I drove to lunch, I didn't process anything at all. Durring lunch I was so calm and completely free of the fear that has been plagueing me. After lunch, I switched to normal and fully functional. When I got home, I was sad. When I got to work I was on a high and in a great mood. I left work feeling calm. Then I felt needy, yet confident. Now I feel calm, yet my mind is racing. Not full of my worries, but full of my yearnings.
I think that is the problem. I want so badly to have certain things, but I am never anywhere near having them. I need to find a way to stop wanting.
I also need to stop hitting things. Unless the thing I hit has a name like this _ _ _ _. I would like to hit that. In any case, my hand hurts. And I am cold. I've been filmed in this odd cool ever since I jumped into the dark, freezing water last night. I'm not chilled to the bone, just cold to the touch. Cold just under my skin. The way I imagine a vampire like Edward would feel like everyday.
That brings me to another thought...last night. I left the house with a small group of people, two of which were hooked on the idea of cliff diving into very cold water. My reasoning was to get this need out of me. In all honesty, I need to feel pain to get through times like these. Not the "lets go cut myself" kinda way. Been there, done that. It just doesn't do it. I need severe, feel it in the deepest corners of my soul kinda pain. I have never recognized that I do this to myself until now. Over the past 25 years of my life, I have had the most ridiculous injuries, and the stories that were made getting them are absurd. What sane person would get themselves into the situations I have been in? Me. I'm sane. I just have my insane moments.
I mean, I have never consciously said to myself, "You could really get hurt doing this...LETS GO!" No...it was always more like, "That looks like it would be a lot of fun! LETS GO!" The further on in life that I get though, the more clear the pattern becomes. It scares me in a way. I didn't do anything too ridiculous this time, the first time since my decision to be more careful. I still needed to do something though. Whats even more strange is that now I am more aware of myself durring these actions. I am thinking about, and remembering, every minescule detail.
The way the nervous feeling in my stomach went away as I walked up to the water. I left the group in my head and heard the silence of the night covered woods. Thats when I decided I was doing it, and I started loosing clothing. When I got down to my boxers and a beater, I didn't care. Me. Miss modesty didn't give a damn who saw me. It was so dark! I was focused. My mind was racing to every possible outcome. I could do it and be fine, or be hurt, or be hypothermic. The possibilities were endless. Then I did it. The first step onto the bridge put my leg to the knee underwater. I didn't feel a thing. The second step put me in to my thigh, halfway up my polar bear. The next step threw my body into reality. I felt the water touch my _____ and it flew up my spine; then it raced through my body the way a glass fills up. It wasn't cold though, not as we know it. I went under. I could hear nothing but my heartbeat. The seconds I was under felt like minutes to me. I opened my eyes and felt a new surge of feeling.
When I surfaced I was lost in total darkness. I couldn't even find the moon. I had to stop and focus on real life again. It was as if I went inside of my body and nothing could get me until I came out. I read a book once, maybe "Velocity." I don't know...definetly Dean Koontz. The main character went into a metetative trance and forgot to come out. He was in the same position in body for 14 hours until he was found and snapped out of it. I understand now how that could happen. I need to re-read that book.
I spent another 10 minutes in the water, trying to coax a friend to not punk out. When I got out, it wasn't cold. I wasn't in pain like I should have been. My onlookers were dumbstruck. They watched me dress in disbelief. No words, just nothing. Like I had just jumped out of a pool.
So strange. What does it mean that I can climb into my head? Is it bad? I probably sound insane right now. I guess something like that is a better way to get a rush then some of the other stuff that flashed through my mind. *shrug*
(I find it hard to believe that the spell check didn't find ONE spelling error...not one. I call bullshit!)
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