Thursday, May 2, 2013


solitude has always been vital, but now i need it more. i recently returned from a walk with Bosco, and it is probably the longest walk he has ever had. we usually walk up the street and then i turn us around, having to drag him along because he insists on sniffing every little flower or pile of dirt for as long as possible.

but today i let him do as he pleased. 

we walked for close to an hour. we ventured down the hill, through streets farther and farther away from this house. the weather was warm and the sun sort of just...shining. god that's so cliche, but that's the only word that appropriately captures a certain feeling. it wasn't setting yet, though. it was about an hour before that would take place. 


the two of us were having a grand time. and of course, my headphones accompanied us. it was beautiful. but about halfway through the walk, i began to feel something that happens more often with each passing day. i don't know if i can even describe it without sounding melodramatic or ridiculous. but i'll try. i am grateful to say i have reached a point of not being "sad," "angry," "bitter," "depressed," or any other similar adjectives. 


i am finally working (instead of just understanding the benefit) on developing the insight to watch my thoughts and let myself feel things without allowing them to kill me emotionally and spiritually. i am grateful that i am remembering to connect with the spirit that never left. but sometimes, in spite of all this, i feel an ache. and i don't mean that in a stupid way. it's, it's a physical ache brought on by emotion? i guess. i don't know...the only way i can describe the way it feels sounds so stupid. but i mean it in all seriousness.

it's as if i'm walking with a piece of me missing. like, that makes no sense because i finally am reconnecting (or at least trying) with myself. i mean, i feel healthier mentally and more stable emotionally than i have in a it's just this weird physical ache. like, i'll be walking along listening to music that comforts and brings me peace when all of a sudden, i realize that there's...some sort of hole or gap within me? ugh this sounds insane. i'm trying (and failing) to find words to express this. maybe the word dissociation works? i don't know. 

it's in these moments of much-needed solitude where i become aware of and literally feel what i carry with me throughout the day but manage to suppress until the night when i feel it at full force. as i said, the only way i can describe it sounds melodramatic, but i'll say it anyway.  because this is my blog and fucking goddamnit Brittany stop trying to make it perfect and don't worry what others think you've done that you're whole life and you don't need to do so anymore

so. it literally feels as though a part of me has been ripped away. like a huge chunk is gone and i'm walking around with a gaping hole, missing half of my entire being. and it's in these moments where i can pinpoint that it was somewhere along the past god knows how many years of hell when someone ripped away half of me.

and the scariest part of all is later, when i remember i did this to myself.

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