I am ½ way to going to restful slumber for a bit. I am failing at chat on Tuesdays. I just can’t move forward. I can only blame myself. I keep asking why he wanted to get rid of me a while back but he denies this. He brought up Enemy 1, but I ignored it. I don’t know if he can tell when I get annoyed – I fill in my box that I carefully draw on my sketch pad. I used a white pencil yesterday. A little defiant move perhaps? He still thinks the art therapy is a good tool. There are so many reasons why this cannot happen. I don’t believe art is the gateway to what is going on in my mind. My husband is trying to make me eat, which is only causing me to get sick. He’s even bringing candy home. Food is up setting at this point, but I am not anorexic. I don’t believe that is a disorder. That is a choice and I don’t feel sorry for people who chose that life style. I simply don’t feel I should eat when I am not hungry. I do eat and I take several vitamins.
I like to swim in the ocean under the water especially. It is dark and there is little noise. I swim with my eyes open, emerced in a green-grey coolness with sun filtering threw the water. The best part of the experience is that I can’t hear a thing inside of my head. No thoughts intruding. It’s the one place in my existence that I am freely myself. Catching myself in a rip tide makes it all the more exuberating. The challenge of keeping those thoughts intact, at their peril, or letting them go. It’s the one time I am truly in control as I know how to manage this sometimes called a “beast”. Rip tides in the gulf are pretty tame compared to the oceans, and I have only encountered them mostly in the gulf. But I am the one who has the control over who will win the battle, not the most aggressive one who throughout my life has always pulled the strings. It is I who decides how to embrace this situation. But on shore, I have no control.
There needs to be more time to swim under water in life – my life.