More lyrics, and on moving on…

what ravages of spirit
conjured this temptuous rage
created you a monster
broken by the rules of love
and fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do
and fate has led you through it
you do what you have to do . . .

and i have the sense
to recognize
that i don’t know how to let you go

every moment marked
with apparitions of your soul
i’m ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you
i do what i have to do

but i have the sense
to recognize
that i don’t know how to let you go
i don’t know how to let you go

a glowing ember
burning hot
burning slow
deep within i’m shaken
by the violence of existing
for only you

i know i can’t be with you
i do what i have to do
oh i know i can’t be with you
i do what i have to do

and i have the sense
to recognize
that i don’t know how to let you go

but i don’t know how to let you go
i don’t know how to let you go
i don’t know how to let you go

-Sarah McLachlan, Do What You Have To Do

I feel so good when I’m writing.

There’s this sense of loss and pain, a person I think of again and again, and it seems like she fills all the minutes, all the hours of my mind, though I know that must not be the case – I get other things done. Get something done.

To those around me, this week looks the most like crazy for me of any for as long as I can remember. There are various definitions of when ‘crazy’ really becomes a problem, depending on who you ask. The government tries to say it isn’t a problem until your insanity becomes a danger to yourself and/or a danger to others. Some psychiatrists say that as long as your insanity doesn’t prevent you from working, doesn’t prevent you from loving, you’re fine… or at least, not too crazy to function in the world.

In case you don’t know, today is my ninth day off work of the last ten. I tried working on Tuesday of this week, but was unable to cope due to the … due to what I’m going through in my heart and in my mind. So to prevent further incidents, they sent me home for the rest of the week. And we all hope I’ll be “okay” enough tomorrow to be able to function, but … we’ll just have to wait and see. But from the looks of things from outside me, it’s pretty safe to say I’ve become too crazy to function in the workplace.

In case you haven’t figured that part out yet, I’ve recently lost love. Did I lose it because I was too crazy, or for some other reason? Was I too needy, too weak, too strong, too hung up on the truth and what was right? Was it not me at all? Is there any way to know? But considering everything else, it’s probably safe for those around me to say I’m too crazy to have a functional lovelife.

In case it hasn’t come around your way yet, there’s a belief growing in certain circles that I represent a clear danger to others. I do not want to go into details, but there are at least a handful of people who, as far as I know right now, actually, genuinely believe that despite the fact that I made no threats orany indications that I am aware of that I would ever react with violence or do anyone harm, I am a dangerous psychotic who could turn up and try to hurt [her] at any time. No, no matter how much I try to reassure you that I never intended any real or lasting harm, and certainly never even considered physical harm to her or anyone else involved, some of you will never believe me. It’s happened before, where uninvolved third parties get the wrong idea about something and it blows out of proportion and control; usually they’re even able to convince the person i never intended anything but the best for that I am out to get them. And usually someone shows up out of the blue to threaten my life if I don’t stop trying to hurt so-and-so, which I can never do, since I was never trying to hurt them. Anyway, the point of this is that, to a certain group of people, I represent a clear and psychotic danger to others.

In case you aren’t one of my closest friends, who I confided in in the last week or so, the deeply sad feelings of loss I’ve been experiencing, especially on Monday and Tuesday of this week, when it seemed like everything good in my life had turned to ash and blown away, I recently thought a bit about killing myself. Now, for my longest-held friends, I’m confident they understood that this particular incidence was not particularly serious; some of them have seen me actually try to take my life with my own hands, and knew even then that it wasn’t serious. This was nothing more than a thought. I didn’t even bother to get the lethal poisons into my hands, let alone waste them by ingesting them. I didn’t go to the top of a tall building or take knives or other blades to my major arteries, I didn’t even get much into these thoughts. And I think I said as much, that I didn’t even bother trying to kill myself, since I know better from past experience; I’m not going to die until God is done with me, and when that time comes I won’t have to try – there won’t be anything in the universe powerful enough to keep me alive. But … there were a few suicidal thoughts, and some of them may havebeen shared with people who don’t yet know me as well as my longest-held friends, so from the outside it may appear that I represent a clear danger to myself, as well.

And so it is. I don’t think I’ve ever had all these external symptoms of insanity come together at the same time before. But I think that by tomorrow I’ll at least appear functional to most people. Back at work, not talking about suicide… And I can’t stop people from thinking I might hurt someone, but after a year or two, perhaps their false memory will begin to fade… And love…

I’ve been trying hard to remember how I lived before I met her, how I lived before I realized I loved her, and… it’s trite, but when I look at what my life was like without her, it’s as though I wasn’t living at all. But there were a few things. I was writing, right before I met her. I was spending long days at the local Starbucks, trying to write a novel. So I’ve gone back to that.

I’ve been doing pretty well. Not up to full speed yet, but … making progress. And when I’m into it, when the words are really flowing, I feel good again. And when there’s a tough spot, a pause, or evenwhen I just have to stop to get a new drink or to urinate, there she is again in my thoughts. There’s that wave of loss and grief and confusion washing up against the shore of my being able to move on with my life. But with time comes higher ground, and except for a setback the day before where I got all twisted up about something I’d long said I’d never take part in – the LJ ‘friends’ list politics – every day has left me more even-keeled than the last. Less overtaken by the waves.

And yes, whether due to careful machinations or to following her heart it does not matter, she will be remembered. What has been done cannot be undone. But perhaps I can move on, find more things to bear me up against the waves of wanting her, needing her, in my life. I will always love her. But I can breathe, I can eat, I can sleep without her. I will survive.

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can’t take my eyes off of you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes off of you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes…

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We’ll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower’s daughter
The pupil in denial

I can’t take my eyes off of you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes off of you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes off you
I can’t take my eyes…

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can’t take my mind off of you
I can’t take my mind off you
I can’t take my mind off of you
I can’t take my mind off you
I can’t take my mind off you
I can’t take my mind…
My mind…my mind…

-Damien Rice, The Blower’s Daughter

Published by

Teel

Author, artist, romantic, insomniac, exorcist, creative visionary, lover, and all-around-crazy-person.

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