Shaking the Tree

Welcome to part the second. Here I'll attempt to explain why I'm starting to journal in the first place.

At the beginning of June, a friend of mine (a good friend, I'd like to think) began a blog about her transition to Hellenismos, the reconstructionist worship of the deities of Ancient Greece. It's been fascinating, not just because of my long-time love of the gods and goddesses of the ancient world, but also because it seems to be providing a space for her to unpack a myriad of thoughts and feelings and beliefs. Many of the things she has written have struck chords with me so rich and deeply hidden that I felt I might break; that is, if I resisted the frequency and tried to force stillness upon myself. Or, I could let myself resonate, like the body of an instrument, by doing some unpacking of my own.

I think I had come to equate strong, sweeping emotions with immaturity and danger. Tempestuous feelings powerful enough to bowl me into next moon cycle have generally gone along with bad things. Like losing friends, embarrassment, shame, unrequited love. Things I probably should have deleted instead of sending out at 3:30 in the morning. If I feel the need to say or write something when feeling strongly these days, I usually bite my tongue and wait a few hours - take a nap, eat some food, or even try the next day. And by then, the mood has usually (always?) passed. I give a deep sigh of relief that I rode out the storm of my mood without throwing anybody or anything overboard, and continue on with my life.

The problem is that nothing has gone overboard for a while - and, though I hadn't realized it, this stuff piles up. If some of the stuff I'm linked to doesn't get dealt with soon, I'm going to sink from the weight alone. I can't see and I can't move for the mass of people and things and interests and projects and 'liked' pages, so I can't get anything done. To change metaphors, my backpack is stuffed with crap and it's getting too heavy to carry.

I've got to shake some of it off somehow. And that resonance, that inner vibration I've been feeling - it's a shaking. It is dangerous. I may lose things I find valuable. I've been terrified of that, especially since last August. But it needs to be set loose and allowed to do its work. What falls away is done with, and what remains will be what loves me enough to endure a little cleaning. I'd thought it was a good idea to pad out my life with fragile things, but I do not and should not need to surround myself with what will break if I ever test its strength.

The problem is that I do not trust myself. I don't trust myself to be me - or rather the same me in different moods. The terror comes along sooner or later. What if that mood wasn't significant? What if I felt angry because I was hungry? Depressed because I was tired? Overworked because I had a headache? What if I destroy something that I'll want tomorrow? So I average myself out. Whenever I think I'll feel differently later, I pick the more positive or people-friendly thought pattern and make myself believe that the other one is insignificant.

The problem there is that I stagnate. Negative feelings can exist for a reason. I know full well that I tend towards depression and withdrawal as a semi-natural state, but if I'm feeling the same thing repeatedly over a period of time it's probably because I need to do something about it! But I've got nowhere to lay out how I *might* really feel, nowhere to experiment safely with being my whole self. I am too invested in everyone I know to risk exploding in their face...

And so this blog will partly serve as this testing area. Be warned, therefore, as I will be attempting honesty to the moment rather than to my idealized averaged self. I may say negative things - about people you care about, or things you care about, or even about you. But you are warned, now; and this is a fairly private space, though public. If you choose to come here, and read my words - and you are offended by what you read... then, though it pains me to say it, you are part of what I need to unpack and throw out. I need ONE PLACE where I can be all of me, including the nasty bits. I'll end up on medication for a bipolar disorder I don't have, if I don't.

I hope you'll be strong enough to stay.