Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Small madness.
Last week was a weird few days, culminating in drinking too much and having a bit of a freak out. I know – me – freaking out – can you believe it? Anyhow, I’m better now. Still having weird dreams and some annoying obsessive compulsive behaviour but feeling much more grounded overall. And productive. And not so afraid.
I would like to blame it all on the hearings, you know, aftermath etc. But that would be dishonest. It’s not that. It’s not even mostly that. The hearings are just the most convenient and recent focal point for the tarry muck that runs in place of my blood, a pin prick and it oozes forth. But in a year there will be something else. And another after that. Such is trauma – original and then compounded, rolled flat and picked off in pieces like a scab. And mine likes to be fed. Greedy thing that it is, always hungry. And as much as I want it to go away, I can’t imagine being without it – a parasite so changing its host that to lose it is to risk diminishment. Isn’t that why we hold onto our sufferings so? Because we do not know how to be without them frustrating and comforting both.
When I am well and balanced. In high spirits as I am today, I can not understand my madness one whit (for this is, you know, a small madness). Can not understand why I want it so, or allow it to veil the world and mute its colour. And as certain as I am that everybody has this in them, I am equally certain that everybody does not.
I am thankful at least that I get long reprieves and function well. I wonder if I can keep this balance forever or if I must one day make a choice.
One Comment on “Small madness.”
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Red Cedar 
Madness, large or small, seems the surest sign of sanity in these times. Empathy, understanding, introspection, hope: All these are bound to induce madness in some measure. Rest assured that all who still live possess some of this madness. That is not the tragedy; the tragedy is all those who do not.
be well, and strong.