I have been in a particular place where I am scared for myself. The fear is not a hopeless one, but because of how much before now there was. I've learned I have a problem. a health issue. one of those. I have a body. & for the first time, I really want it. I really wanna be alive for the first time. I've been unintentionally deteriorating. Most people have said I've been glowing. I've written about the illusion of the normals I attempt to perform. I've been living outside of my matter. I do understand clavicle protruding. I understand inconsolable revelation. There is no going back with what I know now.
The public is useful for shame but the best entertainers know the audience is dumb & wrong. you can never trust a collective consciousness. every critical mass of marginal taste gets swallowed by mob mentality. a we-can't-have-nice-things chronic illness. How many likes & RTs till it feels like gaslighting. How does my illness look so good? I am reminded of "the trick". It's magic if everyone forgets your potential to fail by your constant evasion of it.
now I'm working with a little less chaos & a little more sick-of-y'all. y'all, here, including myself. I have found myself neck-deep in the un-navigatable sauce. y'all said it was all good & I don't blame you. there are myths about this. I've re-written one or two. but my body is a body is the most important thing for this time's being. the only essential apparatus of any act. I've been ignoring the structure of the magic. I've been disregarding my body without metaphor. Here is where I warn you I am going to talk about struggles with food, addiction & body...
I'm finally going to get help. I've been cold turkey yet half-cocked & sober for over a year now, alone. I have learned I don't know how to eat. I understand most needs between laborious ritual or staunch prohibition. I've maintained sobriety but I've begun wasting away. I wanted to start hormones but none of my clothes fit. Leggings, skirts, dresses loose on me. I somehow forgot I needed a body to transform a body. I need myself. I've begun the doctors' processes. I have more to shift my capacity towards health & begin my medical transition. If I didn't start now, I don't think I would have made it to the next year. I was oblivious. I want to turn 34, at least. It may seem arbitrary but I need it. I have time & I want it differently.
I am turning "into" myself. The Directional: needing to focus on inward material health matters. The Metaphorical: there is a woman you need to see, as I do. I am going to turn off my public face for the time being. Retreat while I root further into my new home. I'm doing shit & got shit to do. Imma do a kind of less. I'm not running around till next year. I am committing to a season of blossoming. I deserve.