House of cards
Sometimes I feel like my emotional stability is like a house of cards. Building happiness in bright colours, creative constructions of joy, climbing higher, and then a breeze comes, and I’m knocked down flat.
Today’s ill winds… in order of appearance.
(This is hard to write, because I’m not censoring -anything- so it’s what’s inside laid out totally, there is no -more- than this, this is it maxed out)
- Every morning I touch my teapot, my warm full teapot connects with the warm full feeling inside of me, I have zen, and he served me tea this morning as I slept. It’s a gift of service, albiet a small one. This morning my teapot was cold. Was I forgotten? dropped from priority lists? why a cold tea pot. A little insecurity creeps in. Very small, the house of cards is barely touched. Nothing moves, but I see it there in front of me, and realize that it is, my happiness, a house of cards…
- I have a letter in my in-box for a pro-D session, I’m not feeling well, I have a bladder infection. It’s someone wanting a session this Saturday. I want to take it, need the money, would probably enjoy it. But I don’t think I can do it. I get that trapped panicky feeling, wondering if I’m adding too much to my ‘responsibility’ plate. Too many ‘things’ on my to do list this week… But not so many things. I push it away, shelve it for later, which means it’s going to sit there nagging at me to respond, take the session, don’t take the session, take the session, don’t take the session. stupid. It’s a wild card, unpredictable, save it for later.
- I have a letter in my inbox from someone rehoming a cute chihuahua cross male. He’d make the perfect stud dog for Luna, I think, we’ve agreed to breed her, Wolfe and I. Wolfe doesn’t think so. He wants to breed her to a pure bred boston terrier. We argue, we fight, we get no where. House of cards is quaking. The king of spades sits on top of the house of cards, and he slips to lay flat, no longer facing me, but the house of cards still stands.
- I can see zen is online, in facebook, updating, but his instant messenger is turned off. Is he hiding from me? I’ve asked him how he feels about me, about us, about being here. I’ve gotten a little feedback… not much. Is he in there? Can I get what I need from someone so focused on their own self process. When I’m so selfish too? Am I sick? to want to be so loved, to want to be adored, to want to be the focus… I feel shallow and ill. That I have that need to be fed in that way. Yesterday, or the day before, I wrote about those holes, about growing your own love. Then today, all I feel is the ache and insecurity, crazy. The jack of hearts takes a dive… and I lose a corner of my foundation, the house of cards still stands.
- Conflicts and arguments with Wolfe over breeding Luna continue, and the Queen of spades, and the center of it all, she buckles.. and the whole house comes down. So I sit with tears in my eyes, and I start to write this. The joy… with each sentence I’ve typed, I’ve stacked a few cards back up. Amazing how catharctic the writing of it can be. I have a foundation again already, just from seeing how it fell..
Crazy day.. there may be more card collapses.. tired, fighting infection, loopy from antibiotics, stressed for others a bit, feeling fragile.. emotions built of paper houses in bright colours. Wondering how one goes about trading in the playing decks for something sturdier… anyone have some mega blocks? Leggos? hmmmmm?
I just want a sturdier house, built of joy, in pretty colours.