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Monday, 7 March 2022

It takes me a while to recover from these instances of dealing with various strangers in London. I am always on high alert, and I feel emotionally drained from even sitting next to people on the underground. This feeling is like being grated inside a cheese grater and being wrecked into pieces.

I have done a lot to ensure I have better experiences. From the point of view of my energy practices, I use certain dark crystals such as shungite and tourmaline to deflect back the negative energies. 

This sometimes works, sometimes doesn't work.

I had a considerable meltdown last week during my writing class due to the fact I had not only written on a topic that was so alien to people, I didn't write it correctly and I didn't use all the tools for making the writing enjoyable. It was more as though the addictive part of me wanted to share my story and gain some sympathy or understanding from people who have never experienced the darkness that I have.

The thing is, I used to be able to write with such beauty. It would just channel through, and this was in spite of having so much interference. And now, I am once again able to put these precious words to paper and attempt to pain a picture for the reader, attempt to elicit some emotional response from you - and there's nothing to write about or I no longer have the style, the words, the desire to express myself.

I accept that this is where I am. I accept that I am going through healing of more dysfunction than anyone I met at the writing class. I just accept it.

I read four pieces today, two of which were quite well written and profound. 

One needs to be in a privileged space of peace and calm, where their survival needs have all been met, in order to write like this.

On days like this, I see just how indulgent writing is as a craft. 

I also understand why I no longer am able to write how I used to.

I became arrogant, and so all of this is to show me that arrogance leads to humiliation, as it did last week.

I will continue to write, as long as there is something to write about. Because, hopefully, at some point, what I write will be something people will be drawn to reading, it will be beautiful.

Right now, I lack patience to write details and am working on doing as much hape as is safe for me.

I realise that it removes the illusions, and then I'm left alone and isolated all over again. Don't even have words, no community and I am left with loneliness and addictions and a bunch of healers who are also going through intensely difficult times.


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